


Being Together

by Victuuri gives me feelings (Help_Im_Shipper_Trash)



Series: It's like a bad romance novel [2]
Category: Sekai-ichi Hatsukoi
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm gonna put our boys through a lot, M/M, Sorry not sorry ;), The boys are engaged!!, and more!, there will be
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-08
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2019-10-24 14:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 32,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17706377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Help_Im_Shipper_Trash/pseuds/Victuuri%20gives%20me%20feelings
Summary: Ritsu Onodera and Masamune Takano have no idea what they're doing ninety percent of the time. (Alright, it's more like ninety-eight.) But that's okay; they're figuring it out as they go.Together.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trouble In Paradise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, I'm back!!! Did ya miss me? ;)
> 
> P.S- I think our boys have been doing well. What's see what I can do to change that, shall we?

Ritsu Onodera is happy.

Why wouldn't he be? He has a job he enjoys (most of the time). He has coworkers that he trusts, and (unless they're trying to get something out of him) don't baby him and sugarcoat their words whenever he messes up -something that he's proud to say is becoming an increasingly rare occurrence these days- out of fear of his damned last name. And he has a boyfriend that he loves and that (in spite of… everything; the misunderstandings, the wasted time, and Ritsu himself, that had tried to keep them apart) loves him back.

Life is good. It's certainly better than anything he'd dared to hope for after he'd resigned himself to being alone for the rest of his life, to say the least.

Now, instead of the cold silence he'd grown used to waking up to over the years, a light snore sounds from beside him and draws Ritsu out of his hazy, idle, half-asleep thoughts. Rolling over onto his side, he looks at the man lying next to him; dark hair askew and falling into his face and all. Something in his chest warms, and a smile pulls at his lips. Masamune always had snored, Ritsu remembers. Even back in high school. It's nice to know that some things, no matter how small, don't change when everything else has.

Then again, some of the changes aren't all bad. The silver band he now wears is a definite upgrade from the flimsy bandaid Masamune had once slipped onto his finger with a command to  _Keep that reserved._ It took a while (due to no small part of Ritsu's own stubbornness), but Masamune finally made good on his promise.  _He's your fiance, now,_ the shine glinting off the newly acquired ring on his finger reminds him.

Oh, right.  _That's_  going to take some getting used to.  _Fiance, fiance, fiance._ Masamune and he are  _engaged._  No matter how many times he says it, it still feels just as much like an impossible dream than it had the first time. If someone had told Ritsu ten years ago that he'd get to marry  _Saga-senpai_ one day, he surely would have died that instant. Hell, he's pretty close to dying of happiness, now.

Ritsu hasn't allowed himself to do something so silly and childish in ages (long before he'd stopped being a child), but at this moment, a tightness in his chest and feeling so grateful he could cry, he closes his eyes and makes a wish.  _'If this_ is  _a dream, I hope I never,_ ever _wake up.'_

Wishes like that have never had a tendency to come true, for him, but he hopes this time is an exception.

Right on cue, a tired groan comes from Masamune. Speaking of waking up. His timing is impeccable, as always. Sleep apparently does nothing to dull the uncanny ability he has to always know when Ritsu is thinking about him.

Ritsu holds his breath. It leaves his lungs in a rush and his heart jolts when one eye, soft and warm as melted amber, cracks open and finds him immediately.

"Well, hello there," Masamune says, sleep making his voice low and somehow more husky and gravelly than it usually is.

"Hi." Ritsu's chest quivers and his skin tingles at Masamune's quiet, rough voice. "Good morning."

A sleepy, lazily content grin spreads across Masamune's face. "It is now," he agrees easily.

Ritsu snorts. He loves this man, cheesy and cliche as he is.

Masamune's grin widens, and butterflies swarm in Ritsu's belly. "Were you watching me sleep, by any chance," he asks, eyebrow raised curiously. "It's okay if you were. I've watched you sleep before, too," he admits nonchalantly.

' _Creepy…'_ Ritsu's mind shudders.

His face warms both at being caught, and at  _that_ lovely little revelation. "Oh my god, you're such a pervert," he mutters, looking anywhere but at Masamune.

"Takes one to know one," Masamune counters without missing a beat. "And does that mean you were?" He sounds much too delighted with his discovery.

For some reason, it feels as if Ritsu's just walked into a trap. His primary instinct to deny kicks in. "Of course I wasn't," he scoffs, lying through his teeth. "I was just… uh..." his mind blanks, as usual, at the worst possible time.

Like he always does, Masamune sees right through him with an ease that should be terrifying, but somehow isn't. Fond amusement glitters in his eyes. "You're still a terrible liar," he says, not for the first time and probably not for the last.

Ritsu can't rightfully disagree. One day he'll get better at that, he swears. Until then, though, his heart skips a beat before speeding up to a dangerous pace when Masamune suddenly moves forward. "Hey, what-" his words die with a hitch in his throat as a heavy, but all too familiar weight settles on top of him.

Masamune fluidly pulls Ritsu underneath him, and places his hands on either side of Ritsu's head, while his knees form a cage around his hips. "You're playing with fire, being this damn cute so early in the morning," he huffs warningly.

The flaming heat that licks along Ritsu's skin where it meets Masamune's is a testament to that. Luckily, he got used to the burn that always overtakes him at Masamune's touch a long time ago.

The morning is silent, and the day has barely just begun. Nevertheless, Ritsu decides, once again, as Masamune (his  _fiance)_  leans in and causes another scorching fire to light under his skin and in his chest, that life is good.

Better than good.

* * *

It starts small.

"You can go home first, Ritsu," Masamune says at about nine o'clock one evening, long after everyone else has left for the day. It's not Hell Week yet, so there wasn't any reason for them to stay as late as Masamune, and Ritsu, who's there to keep him company. "There's apparently going to be an emergency meeting. Isaka just emailed me about it." He sounds less than thrilled, with that. The irritation swirling in his eyes and the displeasure dripping from his tone highlights his enthusiasm with his eccentric boss.

Ritsu hums in sympathy and acknowledgment. He had already finished his work for the day a while ago, but he'd been steadily making his way through a few other documents that needed to be done by next week while he waited for Masamune. He would have been fine without it, but a head start never hurts. "Ok," he says, standing up and stretching with a wince.

Masamune watches the movement with undisguised interest. His eyes drift to the small strip of skin that was exposed when Ritsu stood.

Instantly, Ritsu lowers his arms and pulls the corner of his shirt down.  _'Don't even think about it,'_ he silently warns Masamune with a sharp glare. His hips must hate him now. It's not  _his_ fault, though. Masamune, damn that man, has no self-control whatsoever.

The annoyance that had been darkening Masamune's eyes fades as he snickers and holds his hands up in a gesture of peace. He knows exactly what he did, the smug, shameless prick.

Ritsu looks around to make damn sure that no one else is lingering around the department. Then he sticks his tongue out at Masamune.

Masamune laughs (dammit, why can't Ritsu stay irritated with him when he does that?) and lowers his hands as Ritsu finishes packing up his things and slings his bag over his shoulder. "Knowing him, it's probably something stupid that won't take too long." He frowns.

Ritsu wonders if he would say such things if anyone else was in the room with them right now. Probably not. It worries him, but he's also glad that Masamune trusts him to complain about stuff like this.

Masamune grimaces apologetically. "If you're hungry, go ahead and eat. If not, I'll grab some food on the way home," he offers.

Ritsu nods and smiles reassuringly. He isn't too terribly hungry, and he knows how much Masamune despises the thought of either of them eating alone. "It's okay, I'll wait."

A strange look passes Masamune's face, but then it's gone, like a trick of the light.

Or not. Ritsu reflexively takes a step back and his hand tightens around the strap of his bag when Masamune abruptly stands and quickly closes the distance between them in three long strides. It must be nice, being tall enough to be able to do that.

Gently, Masamune reaches out and cups the side of Ritsu's face; tilting his head up and stealing a scorching, sensual kiss that is certainly not suitable for a work environment.

Ritsu's heart and his legs both tremble. His face, as well as his lungs, are in flames when Masamune deigns to pull away.

With a small, soft smile that's dangerous to Ritsu's heart, Masamune leans down to rest his forehead against Ritsu's. "You're the best, you know that," he asks, quiet and reverent. His words are only meant for Ritsu to hear.

Pulse pounding wildly, the fire on Ritsu's cheeks grows hotter. "It's- it's not like it's some big deal," he says, voice embarrassingly hoarse to his own ears. "And don't do that while we're at work, idiot," he orders. It doesn't sound very convincing.

Masamune grins crookedly. It's a strange reaction to being called an idiot, but he's weird like that. "Whatever you say," he agrees breezily, standing back up straight, but noticeably not stepping out of Ritsu's personal space.

Ritsu frowns. He doesn't believe that for one second.

Shaking his head fondly, Masamune lifts his hand and drops it on top of Ritsu's head, and ruffles his hair into a hopeless mess (more so than it usually is).

"Hey," Ritsu grumbles, lightly batting the hand away and trying in vain to fix his now thoroughly wrecked hair.

Masamune smirks and rescinds his hand. His work here is done. "I'll try not to take too long," he promises, walking across the room and pausing in the doorway to look over his shoulder at Ritsu. "Be careful going home, alright?"

Ritsu resists the urge to stick his tongue out again. "I'm not some child," he says unhappily. "I'll be fine."

Masamune raises an eyebrow skeptically and pointedly says nothing in agreement. Then, with a final smile and a wave, he's gone.

' _Jerk,'_ Ritsu pouts at the spot Masamune had been standing. Even he can tell that there isn't much heat behind it, though.

The train ride home is silent. Only late stragglers such as himself ever find themselves on the last train, and there's a strange sense of peaceful, exhausted camaraderie in the air between all of them.

Ritsu makes it home just fine, with little more incident then stumbling over a crack in the ground that he has no memory of being there that morning. He takes a deep breath of relief when he steps into his apartment and allows his bag to slip off his shoulder and fall unceremoniously to the floor. A yawn breaks past his lips, and he shakes his head furiously. He can sleep later. He made a promise to wait for Masamune, so that's exactly what he's going to do.

But perhaps the leftover coffee from this morning would help. Heating himself some in the microwave, Ritsu hunts down his book while he waits for the telltale beeping to tell him the energizing drink he really shouldn't be consuming this late at night is ready. He finds his beloved novel (Akihiko Usami's latest work that he's been dying to finish since this morning) sitting faithfully on the table by the lamp in their living room where he'd left it the night before, when Masamune had decided that he could find much more pleasurable activities for the two of them to indulge in together besides reading.

The microwave dings, and Ritsu answers the inescapable call of caffeine that beckons him before returning to the living room and settling himself into their cozy armchair. Then, with coffee in one hand and book in the other, he waits.

Time flies by, and an hour melts away before he knows it. The seconds pass only a bit faster than Ritsu turns the pages. True to form, Usami's newest novel is incredible. Soon enough, though, the last drop of warm coffee has been drained from his cup, and he finds his eyelids growing increasingly heavy in spite of the caffeine. After he's read the same paragraph for about the tenth time, he nods off for a bit. Then, he jolts to a start as the sound of a key in the lock registers in his ears.

"I'm home," Masamune announces, closing the door and locking it behind him.

Ritsu shakes his head in an attempt to clear it of the fog of sleep that still stubbornly remains there.

Footsteps echo down the hallway, and it isn't long before Masamune rounds the corner; a paper bag with the logo of one of Ritsu's favorite restaurants printed on the side in tow. Horribly observant as ever, his eyes quickly drift to the empty coffee mug and the book that had somehow fallen out of Ritsu's hand and to the floor at some point. "Were you sleeping," he asks, guilt pressing wrinkles into his forehead.

Ritsu can't have that, now. "Of course not," he says, internally cringing when a traitorous yawn forces its way past his lips and calls out his bluff before Masamune gets the chance to.

Masamune's smile is exasperatedly fond as he crosses the room, depositing the takeout bag on their living room table as he does so. "Sorry I made you wait," he says, leaning down and pressing his lips to Ritsu's forehead in apology.

The heat that blooms on Ritsu's face is instant. In need of a distraction, he reaches down and picks up his book, silently asking for its forgiveness as he saves his page and places it back on the table. "Yeah yeah," he mutters. "It's fine already. Let's eat," he says, changing the subject. "You're late and I'm hungry."

Masamune chuckles, and the low sound reverberates through Ritsu's chest. "Your wish is my command," he says cheekily.

It's unfortunately endearing, and Ritsu is too tired to pretend to be irritated with him.

The food is delicious, but the company certainly doesn't hurt. He got used to it, living on his own for so long, but Masamune may be onto something about eating together being more enjoyable than eating alone.

* * *

Then, it happens again. The next day, as a matter of fact.

It's about eight on a Friday night, and everyone had left about an hour or so ago. He and Masamune have once again wound up as the last two people in the office, but right as they had been on their way out, the all too recognizable shriek of the fax machine had drawn their attention and stopped them in their tracks. So close, yet so far.

"What the hell is this," Masamune demands, disbelief and outrage coloring his voice.

A chill runs down Ritsu's spine at the cold fury in Masamune's tone, despite the fact that it isn't directed at him. "What's the matter," he asks, bag slung over his shoulder and halfway out the door.

Masamune's eyes have just finished scanning over the newly acquired documents, and his fingers are clenched so tightly around the freshly inked sheets of paper in his hands it's a wonder that they haven't torn in half yet. "Erika Ichinose's latest story idea is complete garbage, that's what," he declares; darkly vehement.

Ritsu spares a measure of pity towards Masamune's author. The star of Marukawa's manga Publishing Department she may be, but that title means next to nothing to their perfectionist of an editor-in-chief. It wasn't by luck that he made a best-selling magazine out of the rag Emerald had been in practically no time at all. "Really? Surely it can't be that bad," he reasons, hoisting his bag higher onto his shoulder and walking across the room to stand next to Masamune.

Masamune shakes his head in disagreement. "This has to be some kind of joke. If she honestly thought this would fly then we need to have a  _serious_ talk," he proclaims, already reaching for the phone on his desk.

Ritsu tilts his head sideways to try and get a look at the oh-so-terrible story proposal, but it's no use. All he can see is the title: The World's Best First Romance. It sounds… like a shoujo manga, he supposes. "What's it even about," he asks, giving up on trying to make sense out the few scrambled letters he can see between Masamune's fingers.

Masamune scowls, and Ritsu has to fight hard to resist the impulse that suddenly strikes him to reach out and smooth the wrinkle in his forehead.

With great loathing, Masamune lifts the sheet of paper up to his eye level and squints. Ritsu sees that he isn't wearing his glasses, and makes a mental note to scold him about that later. "After being bitterly separated for ten years due to a tragically avoidable misunderstanding, high school sweethearts Masahiro and Rika are reunited in the most unexpected of ways; discovering that they are now boss and subordinate," Masamune recites, mouth curling around every word in distaste.

The skin on the back of Ritsu's neck prickles.  _'That sounds oddly familiar…'_

Masamune either doesn't notice it or doesn't care as he keeps reading. "After learning of each other's true identities, and of the significant role they played in each other's teenage years, Masahiro vows to make Rika fall in love with him again."

Ritsu feels cold, all of a sudden.  _'Yeah, I've definitely heard this before.'_

"But Rika had already sworn long ago to never give her heart away again, and especially not to the person who broke it in the first place."

One detail, in particular, catches Ritsu's eye. Er, his ear.  _'Her? Why am I the girl?!'_

"Over the course of one year, will Masahiro be able to make Rika change her mind and go out with him again?" Finally finished, Masamune scoffs at he lets the papers fall to the table below them. "I can't believe this," he says; aggravated.

Neither can Ritsu. "Excuse me," he says, slowly and still more horrified than he's ever been in his life. "But what  _exactly_ have you told Ms. Ichinose about us, Masamune?" Because from that searingly nostalgic synopsis, it damn sure sounds like she knows  _far_ too much.

Masamune waves his hand through the air dismissively. "Nothing. She came up with it on her own," he claims peevishly.

' _Bullshit.'_ Ritsu is gonna kill him.

"She's got another thing coming if she thinks I'm letting such a boring story get published," Masamune says darkly.

"Boring…" Ritsu parrots faintly. If this story is based on the one he thinks it was, then he's not sure that's the word he would use to describe it.

Masamune's tirade does not cease. "An entire year to fall in love? Nobody would have the kind of patience needed to wait for a drawn-out story like that," he says resolutely.

Unbeknownst to Ritsu, his hands curl into fists and begin to shake.

Masamune growls frustratedly when his phone call is sent straight to voicemail. "Of course she's not going to answer," he mutters angrily, sending the papers lying listlessly on his desk another murderous glare in place of the woman who had sent them.

The pity Ritsu had felt towards Erika Ichinose is decidedly gone, now.

Masamune curses under his breath when his call is once again ignored. "The witch  _knows_ I don't approve of the story so she's avoiding me. Oh well. I'll keep calling until she answers," he vows darkly.

"Yes, please do," Ritsu pleads, on the verge of hysteria. If that story gets released he will  _actually_ murder the manga author before he himself dies of shame and mortification.

Another ignored phone call and another mutinous curse later, and then Masamune's eyebrows furrow as if he's trying to remember something. It isn't long before his eyes widen, showing that he was successful. "Shit, this couldn't have happened at a worse time," he groans and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Oh no." Ritsu's heart can't take many more surprises. "What is it  _now,"_ he asks, not sure if he really wants to know the answer or not.

"We were supposed to rent that movie you've been wanting to see, tonight," Masamune reminds him, frustration and annoyance at his author putting the wrinkle back in his forehead.

"Oh." That's right, Ritsu had completely forgotten until now. He's been wanting to see the movie for weeks. But it won't be happening tonight, it would seem. Masamune may be able to conduct business regarding minor edits of Ichinose's work fairly quickly on a typical day, but to convince her to change the entire plot of her next manga? She's a stubborn woman. (Yes, he's aware of the irony in him calling someone else stubborn.) It'll be hours, at least, until any progress is made. A stab of disappointment hits his stomach.

Masamune must see it flicker across his face, since his lips turn down unhappily. "Insufferable woman," he huffs agitatedly. "What rotten timing." Ritsu is inclined to agree. "I guess I could always wait until Monday to bite her head off," he offers. He tries to hide it, but he doesn't seem too thrilled with that prospect.

For a brief moment, Ritsu is tempted to say yes. It's dumb, but he's been  _really_ looking forward to watching the movie with Masamune since last week. Would it really be so bad to let Masamune ignore something that shouldn't have been his problem yet, in the first place?

_Yes, it would._

Ritsu mentally kicks himself for even considering being selfish enough to accept that offer, however briefly. He's the worse workaholic between the two of them, but Masamune is dedicated to his job on a whole other level. Plus, Ritsu knows if this was his author, he wouldn't be able to concentrate on anything else until this matter was resolved. It's unfair to expect Masamune to be any different. "No, don't ignore your work for me. The movie can wait," he decides. "It's not important. Get this taken care of."

Relief, gratitude, and apology soften Masamune's hazel eyes and his irritated scowl. "I'm sorry," he says regretfully.

Ritsu shakes his head. "Don't apologize," he commands. "I know this would be bothering you if you didn't address it now. Just don't push yourself too hard and get home safe," he orders sternly.

When Masamune's eyes brighten with the fire that only appears when he's being presented with a challenge, Ritsu knows he made the right choice. "Will do," he assures. "Get some food on the way home, okay? I'll probably order takeout from somewhere nearby."

Ritsu nods, and Masamune takes advantage of his distraction to lean down and drop a kiss on Ritsu's unsuspecting forehead. His face warms, and he turns around to hide it. "G-good luck. I'll see you later, he says, slightly strained, before tightening his fist around the strap of his bag and dashing to make his escape.

The low, rumbling sound of Masamune's laughter follows him all the way to the front doors.

* * *

Outside, the cool night air is both rejuvenating and calming. People meander about, but their voices don't quite manage to disturb the hushed lull of quietness. The stars twinkle in the midnight sky conspiratorially. It's easy to forget sometimes, but this city really is beautiful; without all of the usual hustle and bustle daytime brings.

Ritsu loves it. He's in no rush whatsoever as he walks the familiar path he takes almost every day to the train station. It isn't often that he's released from the horrors of manga publishing with enough energy to appreciate the soft, brisk breeze and the peace of nighttime, so he never takes an opportunity to do so for granted. He's hardly pressed for time to catch a train. There will be plenty before the lines close for the night. And it's not like he's desperate to dash home to an empty apartment. Masamune won't be home for hours, if previous arguments Ritsu bore witness to between him and his rebellious author stick to the pattern. Why should he hurry?

Ritsu hasn't felt so relaxed in ages.  _'I should go for more walks at night,'_ he muses absently. Not by himself, of course. Masamune would never let him, and he's not an  _idiot._ But maybe he and Masamune could walk together. Just the two of them, with nowhere to go and nobody to bother them but the silver glow of the moon and each other…  _'Yeah, that would be nice.'_

Unfortunately, the train station soon comes into sight, tearing Ritsu away from his idle fantasies of moonlit walks with his fiance. With a sigh, he melds with the group of people heading for the train as well. It's not difficult to separate the ones who are just heading home from a long day of work -like himself- from the ones going into town for a night out that they'll probably regret in the morning. All he has to do is see which ones have bags under their eyes already. Those that don't will, before long.

Much too soon, the train is screeching to a halt at Ritsu's stop. He and a handful of other people exit the compartment, and with a final warning and a gust of air, the train departs.

The convenience store planted right by the entrance of the station catches Ritsu's eye. He knows he shouldn't, but he's going to. And anyway, Masamune is having takeout for the second day in a row, so he refuses to feel too guilty for eating a convenience store dinner for the first time in months.

Shopping bag in hand, he walks slowly down the road that leads to their apartment. There's not another soul in sight, but that's okay. Ritsu prefers it like this. Solitude of this caliber is something he rarely experiences these days, and while he wouldn't trade a single second with Masamune for the world, he is, at his core, an introvert. Always has been, always will be. Aside from Kisa, Mino, and Hatori -whom Ritsu had needed to train himself extensively for to be able to stay in the same room with for more than thirty minutes at once- the only person whose presence he can stand for extended periods of time is Masamune.

Masamune will never know this. He's already arrogant enough without any help from Ritsu, thank you very much.

The night is steadily growing darker, but the stars defiantly shine brighter in compensation. Ritsu is by no means an outdoor person, or one to get swept up in the beauty of nature, but he isn't going to deny that the view being granted to him right now is breathtaking. But as the sky gets darker, the air gets colder, and Ritsu's thin, button-down shirt isn't exactly wind resistant. Shivering, he speeds up his pace a bit, and before long, he's reached the doors leading to his apartment complex.

It's warm inside, and for that he's grateful. Nodding in acknowledgment towards a few figures he recognizes as neighbors loitering around the mailboxes and chatting, he slips away to the elevators. The ride up to the fifteenth floor is conspicuously silent, and the elevator feels smaller than normal. He breathes out a sigh of relief when it arrives at his floor and he steps out. God, he hates elevators, and small spaces in general. Eyes and feet following the pattern printed on the carpeted floor like a trail, he makes it to his front door in no time.

"I'm home," he calls out of habit, shutting and locking the door behind him.

As expected, there is no reply.

The loose, warm balloon in Ritsu's chest that had lightened his step due to the refreshing solitude he had enjoyed on the way here now deflates for the same reason. He hangs his bag on the coat rack by the door and tries to ignore the silence that's so loud it makes his ears ring.  _'No use getting all depressed about it, idiot,'_ he scolds himself. He likes being alone, right? And Masamune will be back at some point. There's no point in moping around like a shoujo manga character.

Still…

 _No._ Ritsu shakes his head furiously to rid it of the junk cluttering his thoughts. Where's his book when he needs it?

Hiding on the living room table again is the answer to that question. But before Ritsu can read it, there's something very important he needs to do.

Masamune really needs to stop leaving his hoodies lying out in the open. It might make Ritsu do something ridiculous. For example, discarding the grey button down he's wearing and picking up the shockingly soft sweatshirt and pulling it over his head. Just like always, it's too big on him, and hangs a bit off of his shoulder. (He forgets sometimes, how broad Masamune's shoulders are.) Even so, it's warm. How it stays so warm all the time, even though it hasn't been touched since this morning, will forever be a mystery. It smells like Masamune, too; like smoke and ink and fresh copy paper. It's… nice.

Face warm, and not entirely because of the hoodie, Ritsu returns to the living room. Flicking on the lamp, he curls up into the plush armchair, with no intentions of leaving it any time soon. Then, right as he gets comfortable, his traitorous mind whispers that it wishes he had some coffee. But the kitchen is so far… "Hey, Masamune," he says without thinking. "Would you  _please-"_ he looks up, prepared to bargain with his fiance to bring him some caffeine.

The empty room looks back at him.

Oh. Right.

Chest tightening, and deflating the balloon there even more, Ritsu clears his throat and forces himself to concentrate on his novel. It doesn't work very well. Maybe it's just because Masamune isn't here, and Ritsu is alone, but…

' _Has the apartment always felt so empty?'_

* * *

Fifteen chapters and three hours later, Ritsu realizes that the words on the pages in front of him are all melting into one huge, indecipherable blur, and that he's been reading the same sentence on a loop for fifteen minutes. He gives up fighting his losing battle with sleep. Marking his page, he gathers all the strength he can in his weary limbs and peels himself out of the impossibly magnetic armchair.

It still feels unnatural to sleep in the bed by himself, but at this point, he's too exhausted to care. Looks like all he has to do to be able to ignore the wrongness of not having Masamune sleeping beside him is read until he's ready to pass out. Who knew?

The next time he wakes up, it's by weight causing a dip in the mattress next to him, and cool lips lightly pressing into his forehead.

Masamune is home. The balloon reinflates fully. Ritsu feels light again. "-ou're back," he mumbles, voice thick with sleep.

"I am,' Masamune says, voice quiet and rumbling. "Sorry it took so long. But everything got taken care of."

Ritsu yawns. "Good," he slurs.

Masamune runs his fingers through Ritsu's hair, and Ritsu nearly falls back asleep right then. "I see you're wearing  _my_  hoodie," he says, fond amusement softening his voice even further.

Oops. Ritsu forgot to take it off. "Maybe," he admits.

A small laugh of disbelief makes Masamune's chest hum.

There's shifting on the mattress, then Ritsu feels one arm snake under his waist, and he's tugged gently into a firm chest before another arm goes around his back and holds him closer. He's too tired to fight his impulse to snuggle in more, so he doesn't.

Masamune is warm as he kisses the top of Ritsu's head, which is tucked just below his chin. "Too adorable," he whispers, sounding awed.

Ritsu's nose wrinkles in offense at being called adorable. He doesn't bother protesting, though. Too much energy. It's easier to simply move in closer and bask in the incredible, inexplicable feeling of safety and comfort lying in Masamune's arms always brings him. "I'm glad you're home," he says, before another huge yawn forces it's way past his lips.

Masamune is already holding him pretty tightly, but his arms squeeze around Ritsu a little more. "Me too," he breathes.

Ritsu smiles and allows the fog of sleep clouding his head to overtake him once more. It's easier to drift off to sleep, now that Masamune is back.

* * *

The next day is a non-work day, and Ritsu and Masamune are supposed to go on a date.

There's a new restaurant in town that Kisa has been ranting about for the last week, and Ritsu has been curious about it for days. At around lunchtime, they start to head out. So of course, that's when Masamune's phone rings. Yokozawa's name glares at both of them from the small screen.

At the last second, Masamune answers, but not without an annoyed groan, and being prompted to by Ritsu. "What do you want, Yokozawa," Masamune asks, sounding noticeably unthrilled at the surprise call from his best friend.

Yokozawa isn't very pleased either, Ritsu guesses. He can hear the gruff man yelling at Masamune from where he's standing by the door.

" _What?"_ The irritation on Masamune's face deepens a crease between his eyebrows. "Now? It's Saturday!"

A wave of foreboding washes over Ritsu. He has a feeling their date is in danger.

"You have got to be  _kidding_ me," Masamune spits angrily. "Fine. Give me a minute," he orders, hanging up violently.

Ritsu almost doesn't want to know. "What's wrong," he asks warily. He hopes it isn't anything bad. Dammit, they were  _just_ about to leave. Why does this keep happening?

The look on Masamune's face is one that would make someone who didn't know him well flee in terror. "Damn Isaka," he curses, eyes narrowed in a manner that suggests that he would not be against putting his hands around their president's throat and throttling him. "He's just called an emergency meeting. Yokozawa says he won't tell anybody what it's about, but it sounded serious." He groans in frustration.

Ritsu sighs. Yeah, he figured it was something like that. "You have to go," he concludes, trying to keep the disappointment and bitter resentment towards their flighty CEO out of his voice.

The pinch in Masamune's brow tells him he wasn't very successful. "You were excited about this. I'm sorry." The apology and guilt in his eyes say he means it. "I would  _way_ rather spend today with you than going to this probably bullshit meeting. You know that, right," he asks, genuine worry and concern in his voice.

Ritsu does know that. His heart twinges.  _'I'm being selfish,'_ he scolds himself sharply. It's not Masamune's fault that their boss is as unorganized and demanding as he is. He's acting like the spoiled child everyone always accused him of being, getting so upset over something neither of them can control. He won't allow that. Masamune has more important things to do than cater to him, and he'll be damned if he doesn't support his fiance fully.

"It's fine." Ritsu smiles. It feels strained. "We can go next time. It's doing pretty well, so it's not like the restaurant is going anywhere," he shrugs, brushing it off as a minor inconvenience.

Masamune doesn't buy it if the frown that carves into his face says anything. But he doesn't have to. "Definitely next time," he promises, sealing it by stepping forward and kissing Ritsu in a way that both soothes the sting of the situation, and makes it burn worse.

It's too short. Ritsu doesn't even have time to bring his arms up to wrap them around Masamune's neck before he pulls away.

"I don't know how long this will take, but I'll try to be back as soon as I can." Masamune brushes a thumb across Ritsu's cheek.

Ritsu nods, briefly closing his eyes and leaning into the touch. "I said it's fine, geez," he huffs weakly. "Just get going and don't be late."

Reluctantly, Masamune draws his hand away. Ritsu's skin feels cold without it. "I'm sorry," he says again, stealing another kiss and grabbing the keys where they're hiding in the pocket of his jacket that's hanging on the coat rack. "I'll see you later," he says firmly, opening the door.

"See you later," Ritsu repeats, forcing his lips to turn up into what he hopes is a convincing smile. It becomes a bit more genuine when Masamune mutters obscenities and threats towards Isaka under his breath as he walks into the hallway.

The door swings closed.

Ritsu lets the flimsy smile slip from his face. He takes a deep breath in and releases it slowly, but his chest still feels as tight as it did before. It's the middle of the day, but everything seems oddly dim. His footsteps echo as he walks back down the narrow hallway.

' _I thought it was my imagination, but this place really does feel emptier when he's not here.'_

* * *

It doesn't end there. That was actually the easy part.

Every day, there's some new disaster. Another emergency meeting is called, or another author goes off the deep end days before the magazine is to be published and Masamune has to go set them straight. He goes to work early and comes home late, utterly exhausted. It gets to the point where, for three weeks straight, the only time Ritsu sees Masamune during the day for more than five minutes at a time is at work. Every day there's another phone call that ruins any plans they'd tried to make; another  _I'm sorry_ text that cuts Ritsu's chest with a knife.

 _I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry._ It never  _stops._ Ritsu wishes Masamune would just stop apologizing already. It makes him feel guilty. Because he  _knows_ it's not Masamune's fault. He  _knows_ that Masamune is working hard, and who is  _he_ to fault him for that? That his job has always been highly important to him, long before Ritsu came back into his life. That he somehow manages to do it all, and then some. That he hardly has time to breathe, much less coddle his selfish fiance.

But Ritsu still can't stop the disappointment that drops into his stomach with every  _sorry_ or  _next time, I swear._ No matter how hard he tries to. Each time he comes home to an apartment empty of everything but a loud, suffocating silence, another piece of his heart chips away.

He's starting to run out of pieces.

It's not fair. Wasn't solitude something he used to enjoy? Why does it make it so hard to breathe, now?

Right on schedule, Ritsu's phone buzzes. His heart sinks to somewhere below his feet. He doesn't even need to look. He already knows.

_10:08 p.m_

_Ichinose sent me her first draft early, damn her. I have to fix this mess. I probably won't be home for a while._

Bullseye.

_I'm sorry._

Ritsu is so tired of those words.

_10:10 p.m_

_It's okay. Work is work. Get home safe._

With that, Ritsu turns his phone off. It looks like he won't be needing it anymore, tonight. He's long finished Usami's book and started reading another one, but he has no desire to read right now. Truthfully, he has no desire to do anything. A heavy weariness settles in his stomach that has nothing to do with tiredness.

Laying down on the couch, he curls onto his side. Everything still hurts.

He's always been such a contradiction, even to himself. Now is no different. So he's not sure why he's so surprised that, despite his previous belief that he likes being alone, he's recently learned that he hates it more than anything.

* * *

Like it has been every single day for these shitty last few weeks, it's too goddamn late (or early, depending on how you look at it) when Masamune Takano unlocks the door and steps into his apartment. Exhaustion weighs down his limbs as he hangs his bag and locks the door again, but it isn't enough to prevent his foggy brain from noticing the light streaming into the narrow hallway from the living room. Ritsu must have waited up for him.

_God, Ritsu._

Masamune misses him more than he can possibly put into words. He's barely seen him for more than ten minutes since this whole thing started. The only times he'd managed to catch a glimpse of his fiance outside of work lately were in the few stolen moments between sneaking into bed as quietly as he could to keep Ritsu from waking up, and sneaking out just as quietly at some unholy hour.

Ritsu's been so patient with him, saying he understands, never complaining, and wishing Masamune luck without fail every time something forced him to cancel plans or kept him out too late. But Masamune can tell that the separation has been hard on him, too, even if he won't admit it out loud. He has a lot to make up to Ritsu, and that's just what he's going to do. He has tomorrow and the next day off, and if  _anyone_ attempts to contact him regarding anything work-related, he  _will_ murder them. Slowly and painfully.

He's been kept away from Ritsu long enough.

"Ritsu," he calls, trudging down the darkened hallway. "You awake in there?" There's no response for a moment. Maybe Ritsu fell asleep with the lights on?

That theory is disproved when Masamune walks into the bright living room and sees Ritsu, very much awake.

Ritsu is sitting on the floor in front of the living room table. There are many beer cans littering the surface of the table, and some have migrated to the floor. A few of them are closed. Most of them are open and empty. His shoulders are hunched over. He's wearing Masamune's hoodie again. The oversized sweatshirt makes him look even smaller than he already is.

The sight tightens something in Masamune's chest. "Ritsu," he says, taking a step forward to the grounded figure of his fiance.

Ritsu's hunched shoulders tense a little more, and he unsteadily turns his head to look at Masamune. It takes longer than it should for his eyes to focus and for him to process what he's seeing.

The sincere surprise that flickers into his eyes when he sees Masamune makes his heart ache.

"Ma… samune?" Ritsu shakily gets to his feet and sways a bit when he stands. "-s that really you?"

 _He's_ really  _drunk._

"Who else would it be," Masamune asks, taking another step forward. His pulse thuds heavily with panic when Ritsu tries to walk closer, and nearly cracks his skull open on the corner of the table when he trips. Without pausing for thought or hesitation, he dashes across the room and catches Ritsu right before he hits the ground.

Ritsu's arms fly around his back and his hands fist the fabric of Masamune's shirt.

"Idiot!" Masamune takes a deep breath, urging his racing heart to slow to a less dangerous level. It doesn't comply. "Be more careful," he orders. There's not much bite to it. Only relief. Wrapping his arms around Ritsu's lower back, he rests his forehead on the top of Ritsu's head.

"Sorry," Ritsu says. It comes out muffled against Masamune's chest. His natural scent of fresh ink and paper is being covered by the overpowering stench of alcohol, and the smoke from Masamune's cigarettes that clings to his hoodie.

Masamune sighs. He can never stay mad at Ritsu for long, and he wasn't even mad, to begin with. "Mind telling me how my fiance ended up such a mess," he asks, scolding lightly as his eyes take in the beer cans strewn about the living room. There's too many to count at first glance, and Ritsu has always been horribly lightweight.

Ritsu's hands unclench from where they're on the verge of ripping Masamune's shirt, but he doesn't step away. Not that Masamune would have let him. "Thought maybe 'f I drank I wouldn' miss you so much."

The explanation is slurred until it's almost indecipherable, but Masamune understands the gist of it. "Ritsu…" he says, looking down at the head of caramel colored hair tucked under his chin. His heart squeezes painfully at the implications of that statement. He'd had his suspicions already that Ritsu wasn't being entirely truthful every time he claimed: _It's fine,_ or  _It's okay, work is work,_ but Ritsu's unwitting honesty (being spurred in no small part by the alcohol) confirms it.

"It didn' work, though." Ritsu's shoulders deflate. "I still," he pauses when a hiccup forces its way out of his throat. "miss you."

Masamune's heart clenches, and his arms tighten around Ritsu's waist.  _God, I'm such an asshole._ He should have known Ritsu was bottling up his feelings about this. He always does.

"Where ar' you?" Ritsu's absent question pierces Masamune's chest.

"What do you mean?" Masamune squeezes Ritsu's waist. "I'm right here." And he will be for a long time if he has anything to say about it.

Ritsu shakes his head. "No' what I meant."

Masamune wishes he could see Ritsu's face.

"I mean, where are you all th' time?" Ritsu is somehow better with words when he's drunk than when he's sober. Figures. "I look for you, but you're not here. It's jus' me. An' I should be fine with that, but I'm not," he confesses hollowly. "I use' to like being alone. Why don't I, anymore," he asks, as if hoping Masamune can give him the answer.

Masamune can't. He inhales sharply. Guilt claws at his stomach and his chest, tearing him apart from the inside out. "Ritsu," he murmurs, and learns that a surprising amount of pain can fit into two syllables. "I'm sorry."

 _I did this._ Masamune had been aware, at least on a subconscious level, that this would happen eventually. He himself was at his limit due to not being able to see Ritsu for so long. It was stupid of him to assume that Ritsu was okay with it simply because he never said anything.  _I am a terrible fiance._

He shouldn't have let it get this bad.

Ritsu's head is still hiding against his chest, so Masamune can't see his face. He can feel it, however, when Ritsu winces. "Stop saying that," Ritsu pleads, untangling himself from Masamune's arms and reclaiming his personal space with an alarmingly wobbly step.

The coldness Masamune feels from the abrupt disappearance of Ritsu's warmth pressed against him is instant.

"I don't want you to be sorry," Ritsu insists vehemently, miraculously articulate in spite of his intoxicated state. His cheeks are flushed, but whether that's from the alcohol or the anger is unclear. "It's not your fault. I kno' that," he says. "I know you're busy at work, and that you don't need to deal with my whining on top of it all. I'm jus' being selfish," he says quietly. casting his gaze towards the ground as his lips curve downward into a scowl. "I shouldn't have said anything." His eyebrows furrow in frustration at himself.

Masamune's chest tightens and self-loathing churns in his stomach. "Ritsu, no," he says, voice strained and throat aching. His entire body screams at him to close the distance between them and hold Ritsu close again. "It's  _not_  selfish."

Ritsu shakes his head in disagreement. "You work so hard. You always have," he says, a subconscious, hopeless smile tugging at his lips. "It's one of the things I love the most about you. I don't expect or want you to change. I just..." He frowns at himself; irritated that he can't find the right words. "I just miss you. Why do I miss you so much," he demands, looking at Masamune with heartbreaking, helpless anger and sadness shining in his emerald green eyes. 

Masamune's heart jolts to a stop.  _That's it._ Unable to hold himself back anymore, he takes two steps forward and wraps his arms around Ritsu's shoulders.

Ritsu releases a shaky exhale, but tentatively returns the gesture by bringing his arms up and wrapping them around Masamune's lower back nonetheless.

For the first time since Masamune got swept up in the chaos of Marukawa and work and meetings and authors, he feels complete. "No more," he vows, burying his forehead in the crook of Ritsu's neck.

Ritsu shivers. "Huh?" There's a note of hesitant hope in his voice.

Masamune loves him so much. How could he have been so blind? "No more letting myself get so buried in work it keeps me away from you," he declares, conviction settling in his bones. "I won't say that my work isn't important to me, but it will  _never_ be more important than you.  _Nothing_ is more important than you."

Ritsu is oddly silent. The few drops of wetness that land on Masamune's shirt and the way his shoulders begin to tremble explains why.

Masamune tightens his hold around Ritsu's shoulders. "I'm sorry," he whispers. He knows Ritsu doesn't want to hear it, but he is. He won't forgive himself for making Ritsu feel like this (for making him  _cry)_ for a long time. He has his own experience with feeling alone, after all. "You are the best thing that's ever happened to me, and I'm sorry if I made you doubt that." Disgust towards himself curdles his stomach. He's despicable.

Ritsu inhales slowly. Probably to keep himself from crying more, Masamune guesses.

 _Never again,_ Masamune silently vows. He curses everyone who kept him away from Ritsu's side for so long, but most of all himself. "I'm sorry," he says again, because Ritsu deserves it, and so much more. He won't let this happen again. Ritsu is far too precious to him for that, and Masamune is going to spend the foreseeable future making sure he knows it.  _Never again._

Ritsu sniffs. His eyes burn, but now its tears of relief; of happiness. For the first time since the first  _I'm sorry_  and rescheduled date and canceled plans, he smiles.

* * *

When Ritsu wakes up, there's a pounding in his head and a dryness in his throat so intense it nearly makes him cry. But Masamune is there too, gently combing his fingers through Ritsu's hair in a way that also almost makes him cry, for a very different reason. It balances out, he supposes.

"Morning," Masamune whispers, fingers halting in Ritsu's hair briefly.

Ritsu groans. Why does he always lose his grip on his self control when it comes to alcohol? He should know better by now! "Morning," he croaks miserably.

Masamune frowns and hands him a glass of water that Ritsu accepts gratefully and drains in four seconds. How do you feel," he asks, still making sure to keep his voice low.

Ritsu appreciates it. His head is gonna explode if any more noise happens. "Like shit," he admits, laying back down and covering his face with the pillow. The darkness helps the pain in his head, a little bit.

Masamune chuckles lightly, and Ritsu pouts into the pillow. "That's what happens when a lightweight drinks," he points out, not even having the decency to hide the wry amusement in his voice.

If the pillow over Ritsu's face wasn't protecting his eyes from the searing light of the lamp, he would smack Masamune with it.

Masamune laughs, and resumes playing with Ritsu's hair.

Ritsu closes his eyes on reflex. It always feels unfairly good when Masamune does that. But he's surprised Masamune is still here. Surely there's some unexpected meeting or problem with an author that needs his attention? A pit forms in his stomach at the thought that Masamune will leave, soon.  _'Please, let us stay here a little longer,'_ he prays.

A peaceful, content silence settles between them.

It pains Ritsu to break it, but he needs to mentally prepare himself. "So," he says, fingers curling around the sheets under his hand. "How… how long can you stay this morning?"

Masamune freezes. "Ritsu…" His voice sounds pained.

Ritsu wants to take the words back the second they leave his mouth. "S-sorry. Forget I asked," he says, cursing himself for his lack of tact. The hand leaves his hair, and his heart sinks.

Masamune takes the pillow away, and Ritsu's warm face cools at the rush of air that assaults him. "Ritsu, I'm not going anywhere," he promises, the sincerity and resolution in his hazel eyes reinforcing his claim.

Ritsu's breath catches, and his heart skips a beat. It's too good to be true. "You mean, until tonight?" He hardly dares to hope.

Masamune shakes his head. "At all," he says firmly.

Ritsu gapes up at him. Happy butterflies swarm in his chest.

"I'm off this weekend, and I shut my phone off like I should have a long time ago. It's just you and me."

A ragged breath leaves Ritsu's lungs, and sharp pins prick at the back of his eyes. "Really?"

Masamune smiles gently, but there's something sad about it. "Really," he confirms, brushing a few unruly strands of hair away from Ritsu's forehead. "I haven't been spending enough time with my fiance, lately. It's unforgivable. He really ought to slap me, to tell the truth."

A watery laugh bursts past Ritsu's lips. "I think he's too happy to do that, right now," he says, reaching up to wipe his eyes with the back of his hand.

With a small, soft smile that's dangerous to Ritsu's heart, Masamune grabs his hand and gently pulls it away from his face, leaning down and pressing his forehead against Ritsu's. "Good. I intend to keep it that way, from now on," he vows.

Ritsu's heart is going to burst if this keeps up. He doesn't mind that too much, though.

Tangling one hand in his hair and lacing their fingers together with the other, Masamune brings their lips together and starts to make good on his promise.

It's hard to kiss when you're smiling, Ritsu discovers.

He knows, inevitably, that there will be more unplanned meetings and late nights where he goes home first. That's just the way it is. But that's okay. Because Ritsu knows: No matter what life throws at them, and no matter what obstacles try and come between them, they've gotten through worse before. They'll be okay.

As long as they're together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, this is so melodramatic and cheesy. I regret nothing!
> 
> P.S- Damn, it's good to be back, I missed you guys so much!!! I'm sorry I vanished for so long. Ending Being Heard sent me into a minor depressive spiral, I think? Writing got really difficult, for a minute there. And then I got sick (again. Probably doesn't help that I constantly forget to eat, lmao). Then work has been a pain. In summary: Real Life sucks, and I'm glad to be back on my bullshit!!!
> 
> P.P.S- I dyed my hair purple!!!!!!! I've wanted purple hair since I was like twelve years old and yesterday my mom just said "fuck it let's go dye your hair." (I love her.) And I have literally no impulse control, so I did. I love it!!!! Here's a pic:  
> [Sorry it's a bad picture ](https://literally-ritsu.tumblr.com/post/182642221229/ive-wanted-to-dye-my-hair-purple-for-years-and-i)


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Blossom of Hope (Part One)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (A.K.A- Ritsu and Masamune's Babysitting Service; the Thrilling Prequal)
> 
> I̶ ̶k̶n̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶ ̶t̶i̶t̶l̶e̶ ̶i̶s̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶ ̶p̶l̶e̶a̶s̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶@̶m̶e̶ ̶̶
> 
> Hi!!!!!!! What's this??? An actual update???? I'm as shocked as y'all are!! Lol.
> 
> Okay, in all seriousness, I am very sorry about how infrequent my updates have become. I knew that I was going to try and take my time with this series and focus on improving my writing, but I should have warned y'all about it. Also, I think part of the reason I burned out so badly after Being Heard was the pressure of trying to keep up with updates of over 5k+ words a week. Lesson learned. For now, I'm going to stick to the Quality, not quantity rule, and I hope you all understand. There has been other other stuff, but I'll save that for the end of the chapter. 
> 
> Okay! That's enough rambling for this author's note. Enjoy!! And fair warning, I wrote a good bit of this after 2am last night. 
> 
> (P.S- The chapter title was based on Google telling me that Saki can mean Blossom or Hope. Please tell me if I've been lied to again!)

* * *

The house is tan. The paint is not chipped.

Those details, for some, unfathomable reason, are the first things Masamune's mind fixates on. (Anything to distract him from what's  _inside_ the house.)

He also notices the way the thick, bright green, healthy-looking grass is clipped back neatly. He notices how the rose bushes, standing tall and proud in the front yard, are trimmed to perfection. They're pretty, in a  _look, but don't you dare touch_ sort of way. (He doesn't have to think too hard to decide whose idea it was to plant them there. She always had preferred the unapproachable type of beautiful things.)

The neighborhood, the yard, and  _the house_  is perfect; too perfect to be real, and he has no idea how he ended up standing in front of it, today.

(Somewhere, far off into the distance, he swears he can hear the universe laughing at him.)

One thing needs to be made clear: Masamune Takano is not an indecisive man. He never has been, and he never will be, if he has anything to say about it.

Indecisiveness is not a luxury he can, or has ever been able to afford. Not in choosing what college he had wanted to go to, -since his parents couldn't be bothered about trivial matters like that- and especially not in his line of work, considering his status as the Editor-in-chief. Ask anyone, and they'll tell you the same thing: If there's something Masamune wants, something he needs to get done, or something someone tells him he can't do, he does whatever it takes to make it happen; end of story. He doesn't have the time, energy, or patience to stand around, weighing pros and cons and drawing a Venn diagram like some people.

Masamune Takano is not an indecisive man.

That said, right now he can't decide if it would be easier for him to learn spontaneous teleportation, or if he should just cross his fingers and pray that a hole unexpectedly opens up in the ground underneath his feet and makes him disappear. Either one is fine with him, as long as it gets him  _out of here._

Sadly, neither highly unrealistic option occurs. Maybe if he tries again.

(He does. Still no luck.)

 _What the hell am I doing,_ Masamune asks himself again, for what has to be the tenth time in as few minutes. Just like every other time, no logical answer presents itself from the recesses of his mind.

There's noise, excitement, and all kinds of commotion coming from inside of the nice, quaint, unfamiliar house he's found himself on the doorstep of without a clue of how to proceed, but Masamune's hand -raised, clenched into a fist, and less than three inches away from the mahogany door in front of him- will not move.

_Oh my god, what am I doing here?_

Again, no comprehensible answer.

Okay, sure,  _technically_ Masamune knows that he's here because his mother invited him (kinda sorta), but that only raises more questions that he doesn't have the desire or the nerve to think about at the moment.  _This was a terrible idea._

A warmth at Masamune's side nudges him lightly. It's almost enough to break through the dark cloud of regret and crippling, inexplicable apprehension that's left him paralyzed, standing with his hand raised, poised and ready, but unable to move, like an idiot.

"You know you still have to actually knock, right?" Ritsu Onodera peers up at him, questions and concern clouding his bright, emerald green eyes.

Masamune looks away, and is rewarded by gaining sight of his (as always) stunning and gorgeous fiance, and losing sight of the mocking, forbidden door. It's a win-win. "Of course I know that," he snips, eyes staying far away from the cursed door, and firmly down to frown at his fiance. His quip is not as snarky as he'd intended. It sounds far too strained. (Wary? Worried?) Damn.

Ritsu raises an eyebrow and tilts his head towards the door as if to say  _If you say so. Go on, then._

 _Sassy little book nerd._  Masamune will show him! Squaring his shoulders, he lifts his chin defiantly and turns back towards the unimpressed door. Quietly taking a deep breath, he raises his fist to knock.

Ten seconds pass. From the inside, laughter can be heard.

The noise does not help matters. Masamune's arm remains frozen in the air, and no matter how hard he tries to make it, it doesn't move.  _"Dammit,"_ he spits.

Ritsu's challenging eyes soften, and he steps forward and places both of his hands around Masamune's closed fist and lowers it. "Are you okay," he asks seriously, forgetting to be his standard level of stubborn and prickly for a second.

Masamune is pleasantly reminded, now, of just how soft and warm Ritsu's hands are. It's unreal. They're smaller than his own hands, but they still fit together perfectly, just like they always do. He bets holding them feels nicer than it would to knock on the rough wooden door, in any case. Maybe he should keep holding them, and  _not_ knock. (Only because he would hate to prove his theory wrong, of course. That's all.)

The concern in Ritsu's eyes only grows the longer Masamune's silence stretches on.

Masamune is extremely grateful that Ritsu is here, even if he is making him worry by acting like such an idiot. If he wasn't, Masamune would be alone as he shakes his head, lowers his arm all the way, and admits that, "No, I changed my mind. Let's leave."

Ritsu blinks and his eyebrows furrow, caught off guard by the abrupt suggestion. He doesn't immediately reject it, though.

That's good. Masamune can work with that. "Come on. If we go now, we can still make it to that movie you've been wanting to see. I know it was playing today in about an hour," he says cajolingly, trying his best to discreetly guide Ritsu away from the doorstep and back to the car.

 _Please, please, please, let's go, let's go, let's go,_ Masamune internally chants, praying that he can somehow make it all the way to the car before Ritsu's brain kicks back in and foils his escape plan.

Of course, it doesn't work. Ritsu -stubborn and immovable as a rock, as usual, despite his confusion- doesn't budge. "What in the world are you talking about, Masamune,' he asks, appropriately bewildered for someone in his position. "We can't leave now. We just got here. We haven't even gone in, yet," he says, making too many valid points for Masamune to keep up with in order to counter them.

Masamune winces. He's right, dammit all. Why does Ritsu have to be so smart and logical? (Alright, those  _are_  some of the things that Masamune loves the most about him, but  _really.)_  A sigh that sounds far too defeated for his liking sneaks past his pursed lips. "I'm sorry," he says, unable to maintain eye contact with his concerned fiance any longer. The welcome mat under their feet must be new. It doesn't have a single tear or fray, yet. Impressive. "I don't know what's the matter with me," he groans, massaging the ache that's been hiding behind his forehead since he woke up and realized what day today was.

Who knew that it would be so difficult to attend a twelve-year-olds birthday party?

Understanding and something else that's warm dawns in Ritsu's eyes. He doesn't say anything, but he does let go of Masamune's hand with no warning whatsoever.

Masamune has to fight the urge to whine in protest. Because Masamune Takano does  _not_ whine, thank you very much. And he can hardly complain, anyhow, when Ritsu takes a small step closer, and places his hands firmly on Masamune's shoulders -as if to make up for his transgression of letting go of his hand- and looks up at him worriedly. Face to face again, the vague part of Masamune that can still appreciate these things notes that the top of Ritsu's head  _barely_ reaches underneath his nose.  _So short._

Luckily, Ritsu appears to be more focused on comforting him to notice where Masamune's thoughts have wandered. Otherwise, there's no doubt he would throw a fit. "There's  _nothing_  wrong with you, Masamune," he promises firmly, making sure Masamune looks him in the eyes as he does.

Masamune almost laughs out loud at the inaccuracy of that statement. He could write a damn, multichapter book based on the things wrong with him. Several, in fact. (Enough to make it a  _saga,_  at the very least. He would stop at nothing less.)

Ritsu draws Masamune out of his thoughts again, anchoring him to the present. He's gotten good at that, after all this time. "You're nervous," Ritsu informs him gently. "Which is  _totally_ normal, in this situation," he points out, with all the kindness and patience of a goddamn saint.

 _Nervous?_ That doesn't sound right. Masamune Takano doesn't do _, nervous,_ he'll have you know.

Ritsu shakes his head when Masamune says so, and a small, exasperated, but undeniably fond smile tugs at his lips. "And you call  _me_ stubborn," he says under his breath.

Masamune takes great offense to that. (Not as much as he probably should, though. What can he say? He may not be an indecisive man, but he is a weak one when it comes to Ritsu Onodera. Sue him.)

Ritsu slides his hands down from Masamune's shoulders until their palms meet. Then he entwines their fingers together and squeezes Masamune's hands. "I know this is scary," he says, voice low and uncharacteristically soothing. "But a twelve-year-olds birthday party is  _not_ the end of the world. You have  _nothing_ to worry about," he promises.

 _Ha._  A twelve-year-olds birthday party. Right. Like that's all this is.

Like Masamune choosing to come here today was as simple as it sounds. Like it doesn't send an icy shard through his heart at the thought that he's about to step into a house that isn't his, that belongs to a family that he doesn't know, that has a life that he is definitely not -and has never been- a part of. Masamune appreciates Ritsu trying to lessen the severity of the situation, but he dares to disagree; he has so many things to worry about that it's not even funny. The actual birthday party, although it is the most immediate cause for his stress, is the  _least_  of his concerns.

At the top of his (very long) list: His mother. Masamune has... a complicated relationship with her, to make a long story short. Divorces, adultery (from both her and his "father's" end), and that she had kept the fact that the man who had raised him  _(hah,_ that's funny.) shared no part of his DNA is only the tip of the iceberg.

Kotoko is, to put it lightly, quite the piece of work. On top of being an insufferable workaholic  _-seriously, what the hell is it with him and ending up with workaholic family members? Honestly, Ritsu is almost as bad as her-_  she's strict, she's self-absorbed, she's brash, she's uncompromising, and most of all she's  _arrogant._ And those are some of her more pleasant traits. (So, Masamune supposes that he  _did_ take after her in some aspects, at least.)

To top it off, as if that already wasn't  _more_ than enough, Masamune has met her new husband a grand, whopping total of one time in passing, and her daughter not even that. So, to recap:  _What the hell was Masamune thinking?_ To tell the truth, he's hardly worried about the birthday party, itself. No, what he's worried about are the people throwing it, and everything it symbolizes.

Ritsu knows this. As painfully dense as he can be when it comes to certain things, he's more observant than he lets on. So why won't he give Masamune an out?

Masamune huffs, a long, drawn out, defeated thing, and suddenly, he feels a lot smaller than even Ritsu is. "This was a bad idea,' he declares, and his voice sounds hollow and flat even to himself. "What a waste of a trip."

He looks at the small, sparkly, bright pink bag decorated with bold, colorful letters sitting forgotten on the ground. (The present itself is nothing extravagant. But Kotoko had mentioned that Saki harbored a remarkable love for books, so he'd chosen one for her that he'd enjoyed around her age, now.) He also looks at the smaller fingers tangled up with his own. It's easier than looking at the bright, emerald green eyes he has doubtlessly filled with disappointment. "I'm sorry. I don't know how I thought I could do this. I shouldn't have. And I shouldn't have asked you to come with me." With a final squeeze of Ritsu's hands, he untangles their fingers and releases him. Someone so cowardly has no right to touch him.

When he thinks about it, the thing that makes all of this worse is that for a minute there, back when he had eaten lunch with his mother -for what had to have been the first time in about ten, fifteen years- and accepted the invitation extended to him to attend her daughter's birthday party, he had honestly thought that the eighteen year bridge separating the two of them could finally be crossed. That a single afternoon and a half-decent conversation would be enough to fix everything broken and jagged and splintered between them.

Yeah, right. How foolish of him. A few civil words and a reluctantly extended invitation weren't  _that_ powerful. Really,  _what_  had possessed him to make him think that this was a good idea? Or hell, even a possible one.

Stupid, stupid, _stupid._

Ritsu's fingertips curl around Masamune's as they're drawn apart, and he drops his hands back to his side listlessly. He bites the inside of the corner of his mouth. Some of the hopeful optimism in his eyes fades, and Masamune wants to kick himself (more so than he already had). “Don’t say that,” he pleads. His hands clench subconsciously, fingernails disappearing into the skin of his palms. The action and the new lilt of despair in his eyes and his voice sends a sharp stab through Masamune's heart. ”You can say that you're worried, or that you're not ready to go in yet, and that's fine. I'm with you, whatever you decide. But _don't_ say that you shouldn't have even tried,” he orders sternly.

Masamune's heart skips and his breathing falters. God, he does not deserve Ritsu Onodera. Someone so bright and hopeful and _earnest_ (when it comes to the important things, that is) should not have to be subjected to someone so cynical and ruinous as he is.

Regardless, Ritsu -like always; though for the life of me of him, Masamune cannot fathom why - stands firm at his side. "You wanted to come here for a reason, right? Don't turn back when you've come so close," he implores.

He appears and sounds, by all accounts, completely confident and unwavering in his display of support. But the slightest tint of disquiet in his eyes and the draw of hesitation in his voice gives him away.

 _Dammit._ Masamune tries to smile at him reassuringly, but it feels like more of a grimace, at best. He knows he's not being fair. The only reason Ritsu is with him right now is that Masamune had practically begged him to come here with him, today. To leave now, after dragging him all the way here, would be a real dick move. Still… "No, I really can't. I can't do this, Ritsu," he admits, mouth feeling funny at being forced to say those unfamiliar words, but chest lightening with relief at finally saying them all the same.

Ritsu's eyes widen and he breathes in quickly. He looks almost as surprised as Masamune feels about that little confession.

Guilt tugs at Masamune's heartstrings (like they hadn't already been busy enough trying not to break under the strain of apprehension and downright terror that's been weighing on them all week), and for some reason, a desperate need to explain himself consumes him. He knows that if it came right down to it, Ritsu would accept Masamune's choice without a single word of protest, or any (rightfully earned) demand for an explanation, and maybe that's what makes Masamune want to give him one even more. "I've never even met the kid before. Is now really the best time to  _drop in_ and meet my…  _her,_  for the first time?"

He can't bring himself to call her his sister, or even his half-sister, as she truly is. It feels too surreal and disconcerting. It feels like a lie.

"And not to mention that I'm sure the husband doesn't want me here either."

What man  _would_ want his wife's semi-estranged son (a grown man, no less) crashing his just turned twelve-year-olds birthday? This whole thing was a shot in the dark from the beginning. And now, Ritsu has been dragged into the crossfire. It's unacceptable.

Taking a deep breath, Masamune forces his eyes away from the ground and meets Ritsu's gaze.

The disappointment he had been so terrified of seeing there is nowhere to be found, but there's a deep, haunted pain dampening the usual emerald fire that is far, far worse.

Masamune would have preferred the disappointment. "Don't you think that going is a mistake," he asks, more urgency bleeding into his voice than he'd meant to allow. He needs Ritsu to agree with him. He needs Ritsu to scold him for being so stupid. He needs Ritsu to stop  _looking_  at him like that, so sad and heartbroken that it makes his own chest ache.

(Un)surprisingly, Ritsu does none of those things. Taking into account his track record of doing what Masamune wants or says, though, that's nothing unexpected. If anything, it's part of his charm. "No, I don't," he argues, voice firm and eyes unabashedly staring straight through Masamune. The sympathy and empathetic hurt in them is gone, now. All that remains is a steely, matter-of-fact conviction.

Like it always does, Ritsu's unapologetic determination takes Masamune's breath away.

"I think that you coming here today was really brave," Ritsu says softly, taking Masamune's hand and squeezing it tightly when he tries to shake his head in disagreement; equal parts comfortingly and warningly. "It  _is._ I know it wasn't an easy choice for you to make, but you did, and I'm proud of you for that."

 _Proud?_  Masamune's heart clenches painfully. Is this some new method of torture? Is Ritsu trying to get back at him for something? It would certainly be fair if he was, but if this keeps up Masamune will not be liable for any heart attacks he's sure are about to befall him.

"We can leave if you're really not ready yet, but for what it's worth, I think you are."

Masamune's hand reflexively tightens around Ritsu's. Those words, and Ritsu's confidence on his behalf, is worth far more to him than he will ever realize.

Ritsu smiles, and it's another lethal strike to Masamune's crumbling resolve. "You're Masamune Takano," he declares, making the name sound more important than it actually is. "Editor-in-chief, tyrant, and perfectionist extraordinaire,  _and_  the bane of the printing office's existence. You've gotten through  _much_ worse than something like this before," he reminds him in that strict, no-nonsense way that always makes Masamune want to kiss him even more than usual. (An exceedingly difficult feat to accomplish.)

And while all of that  _is_ true, a mix of pride and irritation at how the "compliments" were phrased makes Masamune's nose wrinkle nonetheless. "Hey," he frowns, and he will neither confirm nor deny any pout in his voice. "I'm also the bane of Yokozawa's existence, excuse you."

A dash of exasperated amusement and thinly veiled mischief dances into Ritsu's eyes, and Masamune realizes that by reacting the way he did, he's played right into his fiance's trap. Well played. "See, that's what I'm talking about," he says, mischief fading to something softer, warmer, more genuine, and more dangerous for Masamune's health. "You're always so confident and self-assured, in everything you do. I've always,  _always_  envied and admired that about you," he confesses, quiet voice almost not reaching Masamune's ears.

Masamune hears him, though. (But he always hears Ritsu, so that isn't anything new.) His suspicious that Ritsu is attempting to sweetly murder him increase.

Particularly when Ritsu laces their fingers together again and squeezes. "But you  _are_ human, y'know? Despite what you seem to think. it's okay to stumble and hesitate every once in a while," he informs Masamune firmly.

Oh, Masamune is under  _no_  delusions that he is anything less than a hopeless human. It's Ritsu that's the angel, after all. His chest suddenly tightens until he can't breathe. Nobody's… ever said that to him before.  _Shit,_ how is Ritsu so absolutely perfect in every meaning of the word? It shouldn't be physically possible for one human to have so much power and brilliance.

And then, Ritsu has the audacity to say something even more perfect and sweet and just… so  _Ritsu_ that it makes Masamune want to crush him to his chest and never let him go. "But like I said, whether we stay or go, I'll be on your side, no matter which you choose. In the end, though, it's all up to  _you._ I'm just along for the ride"

That's… such a  _Ritsu_ thing to say. Masamune almost wants to laugh. And oddly enough, when he puts it like that -turning something so complicated into something so simple-, Masamune almost believes him. What  _is_ he so scared of, anyway? That he'll be on bad terms with his mother? That his "family" will continue consisting of no one but this stubborn, strong,  _spectacular_  man with the most beautiful, determined emerald eyes he's ever met? The only person who's ever really given a shit about him, and the only person Masamune has ever really given a shit about?

How tragic. Masamune can't imagine living like that, the same way he has for more than ten years. It's simply unthinkable.

Plus, a small, quiet part of him that's growing louder and more unignorable by the second, tells him that this day is long overdue. (It sounds a lot like Ritsu.) It reminds him that he knows perfectly well that this avoiding and deflecting and  _not knowing_  game he's been playing for so long is worse than facing his fear head-on. If he chickens out  _now,_ it'll be nothing more than delaying the inevitable more than he already has. He's tired of running from this. Besides, he'll feel even worse if he continues to avoid everything, and throws away this opportunity that's been handed to him without even  _trying;_ he knows that.

Ritsu is more persuasive than he realizes. (Not that Masamune will  _ever_ tell him that. The man has plenty of power over him without any additional help.) Or maybe, Masamune is just weak. Both options are just as likely. Either way, his choice has already been made. "Dammit," he groans again. He means for it to sound annoyed, but it ends up sounding more defeated instead. "Why do you have to be  _right_ all the time? It's annoying," he says, maybe or maybe not pouting.

A small, tentative hope stretches across Ritsu's expression, and relief and something that looks like pride softens Ritsu's smile when he catches on to what Masamune is implying. Thankfully, that beautiful spark of happiness and amusement once again twinkles in his eyes. "Well, I did learn from the best, you know," he reminds Masamune, cheekiness lightening his words.  _Not_ typical behavior for him, but it only goes to show that Masamune is a terrible influence on his fiance. (Again: how tragic.)

Masamune is not an indecisive man, but since he can't choose if he wants to flick Ritsu on the forehead or kiss him, he does both.

Ritsu only complains a little, and not about the kiss. "So," he asks breathlessly, a few moments after Masamune deigns to have mercy and let him breathe. 'I'll take that as a 'you're ready', then?" He probably means to sound haughty or nonchalant, but he doesn't quite hit the mark. And his reddened cheeks do nothing to back up the casual aura he's trying to project.

 _Adorable._  Masamune watches Ritsu lean down to pick up the medium-sized, glaringly bright pink gift bag from the ground. He speaks without thinking, but the words he says are no less true. "Yeah, I think I am, now," he admits, and is surprised to find that… wow, he really is. The sick feeling that was churning in his stomach and slowly crushing his chest a few minutes ago is gone now. He's sure that Ritsu is the cause of that. It's cheesy and cliche, and something he would cut without a second thought from one of Ichinose's manuscripts, but he feels like he can do anything, as long as he has Ritsu. It's a nice feeling.

Ritsu's resulting smile knocks the wind out of Masamune's lungs.

Taking a deep breath (the first one since he woke up this morning), and also Ritsu's hand, Masamune finally lifts his chin, raises his fist, and knocks on the door.

(He hopes that twelve-year-old girls still like pink.)

* * *

The party, surprisingly, is not as much of a complete and utter disaster as Masamune had feared.

But don't get him wrong, it's still awkward as  _hell,_  at first. Kotoko's obvious displeasure with Ritsu's presence makes sure of that. But it was thanks to him, in the first place -and his stubborn, unwavering determination- that Masamune had even given his mother the time of day, to begin with, so he doesn't mind telling her just that, and letting her suck it up and deal with it. (Also, can he just say:  _mixed signals, much?_ She basically _ordered_ him to propose, he recalls. She needs to make up her mind.)

Watching her being forced to bite her tongue and nod at Ritsu in acknowledgment as she reluctantly opens the door wider in order to let them in is highly amusing and indescribably satisfying. (Petty? Maybe. Regrettable? Absolutely not.) He's not sure if hugging is an appropriate thing to do in this situation, so he doesn't. She doesn't either, even though it almost looks like she has to stop herself from doing so, and he figures he made the right call.

(A small stab of pain shoots through Masamune's chest when his mother shakes his hand, like they're no more than distant acquaintances, at best. But that really is the best way to describe their relationship at the moment, so he decides to ignore it, for the time being.)

The tense, icy, awkward atmosphere between the three of them -Kotoko and Masamune standing stiffly by the front door, trying not to stare at each other out of the corners of their eyes, and Ritsu half-hiding behind Masamune- melts slightly, when Kotoko's husband pops his head out from the living room to see what's taking his wife so long at the door.

The surprise on his face when he spots Masamune in the doorway nearly comes close to matching Masamune's own paralyzing shock at officially meeting him for the first time. Fortunately, he seems to be better than anyone else in the room at adapting to unforeseen circumstances. Masamune appreciates that.

Kotoko's husband's name is Akio, apparently, and it turns out that he actually happens to be a pretty cool guy. His curly hair is dark, albeit littered with sprinkles of grey flecks. His smile is warm, welcoming, and genuine.

Masamune is wary of that smile at first, but it quickly becomes clear that his suspicious is unnecessary, and that Akio's kindness -as of yet- does not appear to be fabricated in the least. (He stays wary, understandably.  _Nobody_  is that sincerely nice. But after a few short moments, he feels his reservations slipping away all too easily.)

Akio's handshake is firm when he takes Masamune's hand and introduces himself. And the fact that he doesn't even bat an eyelash before shaking Ritsu's hand as well, where he's now standing at Masamune's side (he's slender and dainty, yes; although he'll never admit it, but obviously  _not_ a female), may or may not earn him a few bonus points.

Against his better judgment, Masamune allows himself to relax.

So, naturally, that's when a small whirlwind of excited yelling, purple skirts, and chestnut curls -styled into a perfect ponytail in honor of the day's festivities- that match her eyes, bursts into the room and -metaphorically- knocks him off his feet. (Or not so metaphorically. She very nearly sends him crashing to the floor when she flies into the front room too quickly to stop herself from bumping into him.)

When he looks at her for the first time, though, Masamune can't bring himself to be too upset.

Saki is even cuter in person than she had been in the pictures Kotoko had shown him; something Masamune hadn't thought was possible. A plastic tiara is sitting proudly on top of her head, but it had fallen a little lopsided during the collision. She doesn't seem to notice. Her excited babbling about a  _magic trick_ her friend had just performed in the living room easily fills the room to bursting with her infectious energy in the soft, vibrantly pure kind of way that only a child is capable of.

Akio moves to straighten her tiara, but Saki has already been entranced by the elephant in the room.

Masamune hadn't had the time to mentally prepare himself, so his heart jolts when her curious, caramel colored eyes gravitate to him and stay there without moving.

Her hyper, ecstatic words die out a bit when she sees that her parents are taking to other grown-ups (if Masamune and Ritsu can be classified as such.)

Masamune freezes under this (freshly) twelve-year-old girl's gaze, and braces himself. He's not sure why.

Meeting Saki, the little girl, does  _not_ intimidate him.

But meeting  _Saki,_  his mother's second child, does.

It doesn't matter that Masamune is a grown man, or that he's a very successful editor, in charge of an important section of a prestigious magazine. It doesn't matter that he had been perfectly aware of her existence, or that he had known that by accepting the invitation, he was choosing to not only meet, but  _acknowledge_ his mother's replacement family. Seeing it in person, seeing for himself just how far behind Kotoko had left the memory of both him and his "father", well… he'd be lying if he said that that didn't make something painful and uncomfortable twist in his gut.

The horribly innocent "Who are you?" question shouldn't catch him by surprise, or hurt as much as it does, but hey, that's just how today is going. Saki staring at him inquisitively and quickly declaring that "Your eyes are the same color as moms. Are you her son?" is only the icing on the birthday cake. Damn, the kid is smart. Too smart.  _He should have left when he had the chance. Why the_ hell  _hadn't he? This was never a good idea. He shouldn't have-_

Ritsu, the damn saint that he is, brings Masamune back to reality by squeezing his hand worriedly when he stays quiet for too long.

Like magic, the tightness in Masamune's chest eases back to a somewhat less suffocating strength. He squeezes back before letting go, and clears his throat. It's conspicuously dry, all of a sudden. He takes a step closer to Saki, whose eyes never leave his for an instant. Praying his hands don't shake, he extends the neon pink gift bag in her direction.

Curiosity and eagerness gleam in Saki's eyes as they dart briefly towards the bag, but they refocus on Masamune quickly enough.

She knows her priorities. Masamune respects that. "This… is for you," he says, and then wants to slap himself for saying such a useless comment.  _Obviously,_ the present is for her. Why is he acting like such an idiot? His heart feels like it's going haywire, and he spares a short moment to silently wonder if this -nervous and nauseous and nearly unable to breathe due to nerves- is how Ritsu feels all the time. "Happy birthday, Saki. And it's nice to meet you."

Some of the questions fade from Saki's eyes, and she hesitantly reaches out to accept the gift being offered to her. "Thank you," she says politely. "You too."

Masamune notices that her hands are shockingly small when her thin fingers wrap around the straps of the bag.  _Do all children have such tiny hands?_

Saki reaches into the bag and pulls out the book.

Masamune doesn't realize that he's holding his breath for her reaction until his lungs start to burn and scream at him.

The way Saki's eyes widen and light up, and how the grin spreads across her face when she gasps in delight and wastes no time in opening the cover to skim the first page tells that the gift was a success. "I've been wanting to read this one," she exclaims happily. "Thank you so much!"

Masamune breathes a sigh of relief and vaguely notices that his lips have curved up into a smile. _Thank goodness._ He's glad he went with his instincts when they'd told him to pick that book.

While Saki is enthusiastically showing her new book to her parents, Ritsu steps up next to Masamune and nudges him in the side with his elbow in a silent  _I told you so._  "You did great," he whispers, just loud enough for Masamune to hear him. Like he doesn't know that he (single-handedly) was the only reason Masamune was able to gather his courage and come here today.

 _Oh, right. He probably doesn't._ He forgets that Ritsu is frustratingly oblivious to how much power he has over Masamune, but that's how he is. It should be annoying, but it only serves to make him more perfect than he already is. Go figure. Though, Masamune is admittedly biased, when it comes to Ritsu.

A smart-ass retort is sitting on the tip of Masamune's tongue, but since Ritsu looks more proud and relieved than superior, and since he did, technically, tell him so, Masamune lets it slide. "Thank you for coming with me," he whispers back, reaching down and facing their fingers together and squeezing once gratefully.

Ritsu's cheeks redden, but he doesn't let go.

All in all, Masamune thinks that could have gone a lot worse.

* * *

Later, the party ends as Saki and her friends begin dozing off in the living room, in front of some scary movie that she normally would not be allowed to watch.

Masamune considers the day an overall success, since Saki hadn't declared an outright hatred of him, and he hadn't been thrown out unceremoniously by her parents. Already much better than he had expected.

It's nice, getting to know little things about Saki through the day. Such as how she like pink just fine, but purple is her true favorite color. Or how she steps up and diffuses a tense situation where it looks like two of her friends may start fighting with no problem. And even how she hates when people touch her hair without asking first. Small things, but important ones, nonetheless. Before today, it was strange and difficult for Masamune to accept that he has a little sister, but now that he's met her, the idea… it's growing on him.

Aside from Saki, however, another thing Masamune notices is Kotoko. Or rather, Kotoko and Akio.

Kotoko is less… Kotoko around Akio. Less uncouth and distant and frigid. More prone to exasperated sighs and shallow huffs as opposed to her usual sharp glares and condescending demeanor. Like she's, more human, maybe? Masamune even catches her almost dropping her ice queen facade and fighting back a  _smile_  (a facial expression that he had, in all honesty, been unsure his mother was capable of making) when Akio carefully drapes a blanket across Saki's sleeping form.

Whatever it is about Akio that makes Kotoko like that, Masamune decides that he likes it. Akio is a good influence on her.

More evidence of the transformation (or The Akio Effect, as Masamune privately dubs it) is shown when Kotoko hugs him (which is a  _big deal,_ he feels he should point out), and shakes Ritsu's hand with something on her face that can almost be classified as genuine niceness before they leave. Not anything noteworthy in a normal instance, but for her, that's a gigantic step forward, and in the right direction, for once.

Masamune had been full of doubts and fears about how today could end, but now he's glad Ritsu hadn't given him an out.

(And if a small,  _tiny_ part of him is starting to hope that maybe, one day, he could get to know Kotoko, Akio, and especially Saki better, then that's okay, right?)

* * *

About a week later, it begins. It starts innocently enough, so Masamune can't be blamed for being unable to predict exactly how strange this phenomenon would become.

The first phone call occurs late on a Wednesday evening, but the sharp sound of a cell phone ringing from on top of the living room table, disrupting the silence and piercing through the air, goes ignored for a few minutes.

Masamune fully intends to keep it that way. He's got his fiance right where he wants him - laid down flat and pinned against the couch cushions- flushed and squirming and gasping oh-so enticingly, and he has no intention of letting him go anytime soon. His hands have  _just_ started to sneak underneath the hem of Ritsu's shirt (that has more undone buttons then clasped ones at this point, but is still tragically on his body, and not on a heap on the floor as it should be), and run along the smooth, hot skin hiding there.

Whoever the hell has decided to bother them  _now,_ can go jump off a cliff. The two of them have far more important matters to attend to. Namely, Ritsu's shirt. It's lingering where it's not wanted, it's getting in the way, and it's just generally being an all-around nuisance. It has to go, so it does.

Masamune relishes the sound of the soft fabric hitting the ground. He thinks he might have accidentally broken a button or two (or four), but who can really say?

Ritsu's chest is rising and falling rapidly, and each exhale of air that escapes his mouth and meets Masamune's skin sends an electric shock down his spine. "Ph- phone, your phone," he pants and pulls away briefly, even as one of his hands fists the back of Masamune's shirt, while the other travels up the nape of his neck and his fingers tangle in Masamune's black hair and pulls him closer, until their bodies are pressed flush together. His eyes are hazy and struggling to blink back to reality. As always, his body and his actions contradict his words.

Also as always, Masamune chooses to listen to the actions, this time. It's not a difficult decision, what with how Ritsu is clinging to him desperately and rendering him incapable of any coherent thoughts other than  _want need now._ But the fact that Ritsu can still speak at all, says that Masamune isn't doing a good enough job. That won't do. "Let it ring," he commands, biting none-too-gently into the soft skin just above Ritsu's collarbone.

It's salty like sweat. It's sweet like Ritsu. It's _intoxicating._

Instinctively screwing his eyes shut, Ritsu jerks and sucks in a sharp breath. His hands clench around Masamune's shirt and in his hair roughly, but it's hardly an unwelcome pain. His heart is pounding so loud that Masamune can hear when it skips a beat. The phones annoying shriek of a ring blessedly fades back into silence, and he doesn't say another word about it. Not that he  _could_ say anything, past his breath hitching in his throat and forcing its way out in a strangled  _noise_ that sets Masamune's blood on fire and easily crushes any hope there had been of making it to the bedroom. (Oh well, they've done it in weirder places than the couch before, anyway.)

 _Much better,_  Masamune decides, peppering kisses along Ritsu's collar (bruised with dark marks that match the new one beginning to form there.) Up the side of his neck against his pulse point that jumps and quivers under Masamune's touch. Against his chin, his cheek, and then  _finally_ his lips.

Ritsu gasps and shivers underneath him, but the sound is lost to the lack of space between them. His muffled groan continues to remain one of Masamune's favorite sounds.

Masamune's galloping heart stumbles when he absently registers two smaller hands tugging weakly at the ends of his shirt. The heat in his chest and under his skin increases tenfold. Is  _Ritsu_ really trying to-?God, his fiance is going to be the death of him. He's nearing the limit of his patience. If Ritsu keeps going like this, there's no way Masamune will ever let him leave the couch -hell, the apartment in general- again.

And, not helping matters  _at all_ , Ritsu's small thin fingers creep under Masamune's shirt and clumsily dance across his skin. Like he's  _trying_ to give Masamune a heart attack, or something.

Masamune thinks he's succeeding quite well if that is his main goal. And he's not going to complain about it one bit.

Unfortunately, an irritating shriek -once again emitting from the cellphone lying deceptively innocently on the coffee table- informs them that somebody else  _is_  complaining.

Masamune internally declares it a new and innovative form of cruel and unusual punishment when Ritsu's eyes open and his hands freeze when the phone rings again.

_Goddammit._

Irritation and frustration at being interrupted  _again_ fill him, and Masamune curses. Explicitly. Ritsu's quiet, shaky exhale almost sounds like a laugh, he notices unhappily. How can he  _laugh_  at a time like this? He loves the sound of it, obviously, but is  _now_ really the time for it?

But then Ritsu has to go and smile like  _that_ ; genuine, open, and full of amusement and love for his ticked off fiance, and dammit all, Masamune's irritation ebbs away like ice on a pavement in the middle of summer. The man has too much power over him, that's for sure.

But they both already know that, don't they?

Because Ritsu is a mature, responsible adult (okay, not really, but he's better than Masamune is, at least), he pulls away -thankfully not very far- and glances warily towards the phone from where his head is now pressed against the couch cushions, providing some decidedly unwanted, but sadly necessary distance between them. "Someone," he breathes, and Masamune notes with no small amount of pride that his breathing is still unsteady and that his eyes are still clouded with something that makes his stomach clench. "Someone  _really_ wants to find you," he says, lips curling up wryly.

In contrast, Masamune's lips turn downwards. "Yes, I am  _painfully_ aware." Whoever it is has just committed an unforgivable crime, and if the person on the other end of the infuriating ringtone happens to be Erika Ichinose or one of their coworkers, he will  _not_ be granting them mercy for their disastrous timing. Irritably, he stretches his arm out and grabs his poor phone with a grip he's surprised doesn't crack the screen. He knows you're not supposed to kill the messenger, or however that phrase goes, but he'll destroy his phone  _and_ whoever dared to call it at such an inopportune time if this isn't  _damn_ important.

Ritsu foolishly tries to wiggle out from underneath him, but the sharp, warning glare he receives from Masamune for that is plenty sufficient in stopping him in his tracks. He frowns and raises an eyebrow, unimpressed, but the knees trapping his hips don't budge an inch. Seeming to quickly learn that this is a battle he will not win, he gives up. The lack of struggle is appreciated, as Masamune has every plan of making better use of that excess energy when they return to their previous activities the  _second_ this damned phone call is over and done with.

Unfortunately, it would appear that the universe does not approve of his undeniably impure plans. What a surprise.

When Masamune sees the name on the screen, his death grip on his fragile phone eases instantly, and his stomach flips, but not in the pleasant, exhilarating way it had been a minute ago. He almost prays for Ichinose to have been the one that was calling after all.

No such luck, he's afraid. "There you are," Kotoko huffs when her call is answered. Masamune almost hangs up on her out of pure spite. "I called you, but you didn't answer, she says accusingly."

If she's expecting an apology she'll be waiting for a long time. The temptation to end the call without another word increases, but somehow, Masamune resists the urge. "I was kind of in the middle of doing something," he says dryly.

Down from the couch underneath him, Ritsu snorts. "Classy," he mutters. Masamune squeezes the outside of his hips with his knees warningly.

On Kotoko's end, there's a pause. Under her breath, she whispers something that sounds suspiciously like  _I don't want to know._

Masamune doesn't try to fight back his vindicated smile. Oh, he  _hopes_  he didn't make her uncomfortable, or anything of the sort. What a terrible tragedy that would be.

Clearing her throat, Kotoko proceeds, pretending she had heard and said nothing out of the ordinary. "I'll keep this brief since you're so busy," she announces stiffly.

Masamune rolls his eyes. Akio must not be home. Kotoko had reverted back to her normal self.

"I need a favor from you." She cuts right to the chase.

 _Oh no._  That doesn't sound ominous at all.

Masamune's guard raises. In all of his twenty-nine years, those words have never ended in anything good for him. He has a feeling that this won't be any different. "What is it," he asks cautiously, fingers tightening around the phone again. If it's something ridiculous, she can just  _forget_ it.

Ritsu looks up at him questioningly, but Masamune has no answers to give him.

And the answer he does get makes no sense at all. "I would like for you to watch Saki this weekend if you can." Kotoko doesn't miss a beat.

The silence that falls between them after the dropping of that bombshell is thick enough to be cut with a knife.

Well, Masamune blinks,  _that_  wasn't what he expected. "Excuse me," he asks politely. Years of experience in keeping his true emotions hidden while dealing with unreasonable demands from the printers are the only thing that saves him from the humiliation of having his voice crack with surprise.

Ritsu taps his shoulder, but Masamune is too shell-shocked to acknowledge him properly.

"I know it's very sudden, but please know that I wouldn't be asking you if we had any other choice."

 _Ouch_. Masamune winces. That stings a little.

Kotoko realizes the tactlessness of her own words fairly quickly. "That came out wrong, didn't it?" She sighs.

Masamune doesn't dispute her. He does, however, see for himself that she is improving at being an actual human being capable of empathy. Good for her.

"I'm sorry," Kotoko says. It's impressive, considering that Masamune can count the number of times he's ever heard her say that to anyone on one finger. "I wouldn't impose on you if I didn't have to, but something's come up, and our usual babysitter isn't available."

Wow. Who is this woman, and what has she done with Masamune's mother?

Subconsciously, Masamune nods. Reasonable enough. But why I'm the world is she asking  _him?_ Surely, there has to be someone else, right?

"It doesn't hurt that Saki really took a liking to you and Ritsu at the party last week," Kotoko says begrudgingly.

 _Did she?_ Masamune's not good with children, but he'd hoped that Saki had at least not outright hated his guys. It makes him happy to hear that. And he doesn't think he has ever heard his mother use Ritsu's first name before. She's serious.

"I would be in your debt," Kotoko promises, seeing her chance when Masamune stays silent for a minute. Always a woman of opportunity. "Please understand that I'm not trying to force this on you, but I really need an answer sooner, rather than later," she says, a few shades shy of sincere and emotional, but far from her previous crisp and formal mask.

Anyone that didn't know her well would be fooled by the calm, collected manner she smoothly delivers her request with, but Masamune has long learned to read the emotions she tries to keep hidden behind her prickly demeanor. The perks of being a lawyer can only go so far, he supposes. "Um," his voice finally betrays him with a stutter. "Hold on for a second."

Kotoko barely has time to give an affirmative before the phone is away from Masamune's ear and at his side.

Ritsu's imploring eyes bore into his. "Well," he prompts after Masamune fails to speak immediately after removing himself from the phone call. "What's going on? Is everything okay? Who is it?"

Masamune is dazed, and the rapid-fire questions being shot at him by his fiance are making him even more so. "It's my mom," he says, voice faintly reaching his own ears. "She wants to know if we can babysit this weekend." Saying that statement out loud doesn't help it to sound any less absurd.

"Really?" Ritsu's expression of surprise mirrors the shock Masamune is feeling on the inside perfectly. He recovers quickly, though. "Say yes," he orders hurriedly.

" _What?"_  Masamune swears that he's having some kind of delirious fever dream. "Are you kidding? No way," he rejects the idea instantly.

Ritsu frowns. "Why not," he asks indignantly.

Masamune opens his mouth. Then he closes it again. It's sudden, true, but he can admit that he doesn't really have a good reason not to do this other than the abruptness of it. 

Like he always does, Ritsu pushes further when he sees that Masamune is about to give. "We're off this weekend. It'll be interesting," he insists.

Masamune nearly laughs.  _Interesting_ is one way to describe it, to be sure.

Ritsu smiles encouragingly. "You want to see your sister again, right? Now you can," he reasons excitedly.

His enthusiasm is unbearably contagious. He's so positive about this. And Ritsu Onodera is not positive about many things. It's impossible to disagree with him in the rare instances when he is.

And it _would_ be nice to see Saki again and to get to know her some more. It would be stupid to pass up the chance to spend more time with the sister he's just met when it's literally being handed to him right now.

Somehow, Ritsu can always see when Masamune's resolve is about to crumble. That should scare him, but it doesn't. Because Masamune trusts him. More than he trusts himself, anyway. If Ritsu thinks it's a good idea, then it can't blow up too badly, right?

Ritsu beams. He already knows he's won. "Say yes," he says again. What else can Masamune do but listen to him?

Masamune quietly sighs in defeat. He's not surprised. He should have known that he wouldn't win against Ritsu's unending determination. He never has before.

Ritsu is more persuasive than he realizes. (Something Masamune will  _never_ tell him. The man has enough influence over him already.) Or it could just Masamune is just weak. Both options are just as likely.

Nevertheless, Masamune's choice has already been made. That doesn't mean he has to make it  _too_ easy for Ritsu, though. That takes away all of the fun. "Dammit," he groans. He means for it to sound irritated, but it ends up sounding more amusedly resigned instead. "Why do you have to be  _right_ all the time? It's annoying," he says, maybe or maybe not pouting. (He's definitely pouting.)

Understanding dawns in his eyes and a small, ecstatic grin stretches across Ritsu's face. "Well," he plays along. "I did learn from the best, you know," he reminds Masamune, cheeky as all get out.

Masamune grins back. He is a  _terrible_  influence on his fiance. He wouldn't have it any other way.

Breathing easier, he brings the phone back up to his ear. Kotoko goes silent at once. He has no doubt that he just interrupted her from some angry rant about how rude he is. Tragic. She'll have to put up with it if she wants them to watch her kid. "We'll do it," he informs her matter-of-factly.

"Really?" Kotoko is too relieved to remember to be annoyed. "Thank you."

Yet another phrase that Masamune has heard from her less than a handful of times throughout his life. Akio is some kind of miracle worker.

"I have to go now, but I'll be sure to message you details soon."

Masamune rolls his eyes.  _There_ 's the no-nonsense, professional Kotoko he knows. He was starting to get worried.

"Thank you again. I'm sure Saki will be thrilled," she says before hanging up.

Masamune isn't so sure about that, but whatever she says.

The phone goes back onto the table. It's on silent mode now. Just in case .

Masamune makes the mistake of looking down at his shirtless, flushed, shirtless, deeply breathing, shirtless fiance trapped between him and the couch. (Did he mention that Ritsu is shirtless? Because now that he is no longer on the phone with his mother he is again being made  _very_ much aware of the shirtlessness.)

Coughing, he tries to force his thoughts back down a more innocent path. It doesn't work. At all. Oh well. Good thing neither of them are priests or monks. "So," he says, brushing some hair off of Ritsu's cheek, and appreciating the way Ritsu's breathing stutters and his pupils instantly dilate in response. Beautiful. "I guess we're babysitting this weekend."

Swallowing roughly, Ritsu nods. "I guess we are," he says, voice impressively steady. Masamune will have to fix that. "Uh, can I get up now?"

Masamune smirks. "Nope," he says, leaning forward and crashing his lips into Ritsu's once more. How had he known that Ritsu was going to ask that? Honestly.

Ritsu's breathing falters and he trembles, but other than that he doesn't protest. On the contrary, his arms automatically raise and wrap around the back of Masamune's neck to pull him closer. Judging by the lack of resistance, he had been expecting that.

Masamune's not sure whether that's good or bad, and right now he can't be bothered to care. All worries of his mother, Saki, babysitting, and this weekend melt away; ice into steam.

Right here, right now, it's just the two of them. They can worry about everything else tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And, Cut!! I'm sorry about the abruptish ending, but if I had kept going and taken this chapter where I really wanted it to go, it would have been at least another 10k words, and probably another month. Next chapter will have the actual babysitting, and a few other surprises! (It would be no fun if there was only one kid our boys had to bust their asses trying to keep out of trouble, right? ;)
> 
> P.S- And now, I declare Serious Time™.
> 
> Part of the reason for the delay in this update was writer's block and trying to make the chapter as good as possible, but there's also been some other stuff going on lately that has kept me from writing. 
> 
> I have a medical condition that requires regular check-ups with a cardiologist. A few weeks ago, I had my first cardiologist appointment since I was cleared about three years ago. I was then informed that I should not have been cleared for three whole years. I spent the better part of two weeks trying to schedule an MRI so that they can determine whether they can fix what's wrong with me non-invasively, or if I'll need surgery. And the nurse was no help, istg. Talk about giving someone the run around! 
> 
> It finally got scheduled, thank goodness, so now I just have to wait until April to know the final verdict. I'm sure I'll update before then, but please forgive me if I end up taking an unwanted hiatus. 
> 
> Alright, serious time over!! I'll be going out of town (Read: being kidnapped to a place I do not want to go) so I probably won't be able to respond to comments for a few days. Stay safe everyone!!! Also I love you all!!
> 
> (P.P.S-  
> [Here have a selfie because I'm vain](https://literally-ritsu.tumblr.com/post/183449991024/if-on-wednesdays-we-wear-pink-on-thursdays-we))


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another Year, Another Adventure

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all know I had to do it. It's just a smol thing, but here! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO THE GAY, ANIME VERSION OF MYSELF!!! RITSU ONODERA, I LOVE YOU!!!!!!!!!

Ritsu Onodera is a fully grown, mature adult.

(Stop laughing, he's serious!)

He goes to work. (Probably more than is healthy for a normal person). He pays his bills. (Even though they annoyingly go up in price every month for no reason whatsoever.) He cleans. (Because cooking and him… let's just say that there's a reason he's no longer allowed anywhere near sharp or hot kitchen objects anymore.) He does all that stuff and more, and he does it well, thank you very much.

Because Ritsu is an adult. And, as of today, he is now, officially, a twenty-six-year-old adult.

For some reason, Masamune seems to think that that's a big deal. (If the way he's been  _constantly_  asking Ritsu for the last month what he wants or where he wants to go is any indication.)

Ritsu disagrees.

Don't get him wrong; he greatly appreciates what Masamune is trying to do, and he definitely thinks that it's really sweet. But he hasn't really cared about his birthday since he was around fifteen years old. Last year, thanks to Masamune, was the first time he'd even remembered that it was his birthday before it had already passed. Every year before that, it had just been, well, a normal day, for him. For as long as he can remember, March twenty-seventh had meant nothing more than the inevitable end of month deadline, and the beginning of no less than three all-nighters that would need to be pulled in order to get Mr. Usami's manuscript submitted in time.

Good times. Truly.

It hadn't always been like that, of course. In the past, when he was younger _-much,_ younger- An and his mother had always raised quite the ruckus about his birthday each and every year. It would go without saying, that it had made him extremely happy that they wanted to celebrate with him, but it had, unsurprisingly, come at a cost. (An was pretty much blameless in that respect. It was almost always his mother that wrapped her gifts with hidden intention.) But, recalling some of the more… extravagant gifts that had been bestowed upon him previously, to say that the two women had tended to overdo it would be a  _massive_ understatement.

In the end, he had finally successfully put a stop to all the celebrations during his second year of high school. It had been much easier said than done, and Ritsu still feels kind of bad about it to this day. The abruptness of it all had confused and saddened An, and angered and frustrated his mother greatly. Going against them had honestly been more exhausting and troublesome than if he'd just piped down and let them do what they want, and normally, that's what he would have done. But this time, he'd set his foot down and stood his ground firmly. Call him petty; call him ungrateful, and none of it would change that he  _needed_ to be in control over something, for once in his life.

(But he would be lying if he said that that was his only reason. In his defense, his lack of interest in his birthday is partially Masamune's fault, as well. Since it had started in his first year of high school abroad. At the time, Ritsu hadn't cared about much of anything, much less keeping up a meaningless tradition of something as frivolous as a birthday. After all, his battered and bruised heart had been too heavy, aching, and still bleeding from Saga…)

(Ahem. Anyway.)

On one side: Masamune had wanted to do  _something_  to celebrate his birthday somehow because "I know you're fine just staying in and relaxing, but it's your  _birthday,_ Ritsu. We  _have_ to at least get a cake." And on the other: Ritsu had wanted to do literally anything but that. Because "No, Masamune, and that's final."

He'll admit (to himself only) that his logic was slightly less than sound, but by then it had become a matter of principle.

And so, they'd ended up at a stalemate last week, each one refusing to back down or give in to the other. How does that phrase go? "Two wrongs don't make a right" Ritsu thinks that "two stubborn idiots don't cancel each other out" works better.

He'd  _thought_ that the issue had been resolved last night when Masamune had  _supposedly_  reluctantly agreed to not make a big deal out of Ritsu's birthday, but now it seems that he was wrong. Because now he's awake, and officially twenty-six years old (although he doesn't feel any older or tired than he does any other day), but he's realizing this by himself, because the other side of the bed where his fiance  _should_ be is glaringly empty.

The sheets are still warm, but just barely. Ritsu is not pleased.

(Yes, he is a responsible, mature adult. No, he does not care that today just so happens to March Twenty-seventh. But he  _always_ hates waking up alone, and for it to happen  _today_ of all days is… displeasing.)

(Un)fortunately, he doesn't have too much time to he displeased, because as soon as he finishes yawning, stretching, and attempting to rub the sleep out of his eyes with the back of his hands, he registers the sun streaming in through the window, and how suspiciously well rested he feels. Something is wrong.

A few seconds later, the answer rings in his ear. Or rather, it doesn't.

 _My alarm clock didn't go off!?'_  Ritsu's mind is a whirlwind of panic as he scrambles out of bed, and tangles himself up in the sheets in the process; nearly crashing to the floor in his desperation to free himself. God, he's going to be  _so_ late-!

Finally freeing himself from the trap of bed sheets, he looks around wildly, but can still find no sign of Masamune. What the hell is going on? "Masamune," he calls out, heart speeding up a little more when there's no response for a minute. "Where are you?" Did he leave  _without_  him? If that's the case, Ritsu swears that he'll-

"Kitchen," Masamune's voice finally echoes back into the room, voice oddly calm and collected, considering that both of them are on the verge of getting fired.

Hand freezing where it's stretched out towards the bathroom doorknob, Ritsu spins on his heel in order to sprint in the opposite direction, and almost slips and falls and gives himself a decent concussion as his first birthday present of the day. It's a shame he didn't. It would have been the perfect thing with how fantastic this morning is starting out for him.

The hallway passes by in a blur.

Masamune is indeed in the kitchen like he'd promised, standing at the stove top when Ritsu dashes in, skidding to a stop and barely keeping himself from colliding into his fiance painfully. A small, amused smirk curls his lips when he sees Ritsu. "Well, good morning sleepy head," he says, humor lightening his voice and Ritsu's panic. "In a hurry?"

Ritsu is so confused right now. Why does Masamune look so calm? They need to go! They need to have been gone hours ago, so why is he just hanging around in the kitchen…

A sizzle from the stove top draws his attention, and a wonderful, oddly familiar, sweet smell flows into his nose.

Almost instantly, his aggravation melts away into surprise and curiosity.  _'He's, cooking something?'_ That smells  _really_ good, Ritsu belatedly notices.  _'What the hell?'_

"You should be more careful," Masamune scolds lightly, turning back to face the stove, seemingly oblivious to Ritsu's bewilderment. "I heard you almost fall," he informs Ritsu matter-of-factly.

Ritsu sputters and tries to stop his face from heating up when he feels the familiar blush rising.

Masamune pays it no mind. "I know you're clumsy, but really," he tsks, never looking away from the frying pan in front of him.

Ritsu gasps; offended, but then he remembers why he was rushing around so much and almost fell in the first place, and he shakes his head wildly. He'll have time to argue with Masamune later. "No time," he says, refocusing on his objective of not getting fired.

Masamune hums in acknowledgment. But he still shows no signs of realizing the severity of the situation.

Ritsu's agitation grows the longer Masamune stays still. "What are you doing," he demands, subconsciously starting to twist the silver band on his finger anxiously. He's not sure when he picked up yet another nervous habit, but he's been unknowingly doing it for a few weeks now. "Why are you still here? Why am  _I_ still here?"

Masamune sighs. He loves his fiance, but god he worries too much. (Alright, he loves that too, but his point stands.)

"We have to go to  _work_!" Ritsu grows a little more hysterical with every second. It's a miracle he hasn't passed out from stress yet. "Why didn't you wake me up sooner-  _Mnph!"_

Masamune watches through lidded eyes as Ritsu's eyes widen in shock when their lips meet. Satisfaction fills him when Ritsu's arguments die as his eyes flutter shut. Much better.

Ritsu's throat is dry when Masamune pulls away. His brain is foggy, and it takes longer than he cares to admit for it to clear enough to form his scattered thoughts into words. "Uhh," he says, very eloquently mind you.

Masamune's lips curl smugly, and he turns back to the stove, grabbing the discarded spatula and turning something over.

Ritsu's eyes widen when he sees what Masamune is making.  _'Pancakes?'_ They're his favorite breakfast, since he'd lived in England, by why is Masamune making them  _now?_ They're _late!_

Masamune loves seeing his fiance flustered, but since it's his birthday, he'll go a little easy on him. But just for today. "You don't need to panic so much," he assures Ritsu, flipping the pancake he's working on and craning his neck to look at Ritsu over his shoulder. "I called Tori last night. It's just the start of a new cycle, so we aren't too busy anyway. They can take care of things."

Ritsu's eyes nearly pop out of his skull.

Already knowing what's coming next, Masamune covers his ears.

Just in time. "You  _what!?"_ Ritsu shrieks,

Carefully, Masamune uncovers his ears and locks eyes with Ritsu.

Who is  _furious. "Dammit,_ Masamune," he curses, anger rising when all Masamune does is flip the pancake again. "This is exactly the kind of thing I told you not to do," he says heatedly, running his fingers through his hair angrily.

Masamune doesn't miss a beat. "Hey, who said I did it for you," he asks, eyebrow raised in that  _holier-than-thou_ way that pisses Ritsu off.

Confusion and irritation battle for the title of Ritsu's strongest emotion.

Masamune takes advantage of the silence to fill it with more obvious lies. "Today just happens to be very special to me, that's all. Awfully arrogant of you to assume that it had anything to do with you," he says, setting the pancake off to the side, on top if the remarkably tall stack of other, already cooked pancakes.

Ritsu silently seethes. He can't believe this. "Okay, even  _if_  that were remotely true, you cannot expect me to accept that you  _just happened_  to have chosen today to have made  _pancakes?_ Which you know are one of my favorites," he asks, allowing the sarcasm to bleed into his voice.

Masamune doesn't even blink. "All a coincidence," he shrugs boredly. A stranger might be fooled, and fall for the lack of enthusiasm in his voice and expression, but Ritsu can see the small, sparkling glimmer of amused fondness shining in the depths of his eyes, soft like slowly melting honey.

Ritsu smells bullshit.

No wait, maybe that's cinnamon?

Turning the stove off and putting the frying pan down in the sink, Masamune turns around and wraps his arms around Ritsu's shoulders, drawing him against his chest.

Ritsu reluctantly returns the embrace  _only_ out of pure instinct. Nothing more.

Masamune leans down and rests his forehead on the top of Ritsu's head. "So," he says, voice only loud enough for the two of them to hear, and making Ritsu shiver. "Are you going to keep pouting and being mad at me for being an awesome fiance? Or are you going to come with me and eat your breakfast?"

_'Unbelievable.'_

"Oh, and there may or may not be a cake in the fridge for later," Masamune says nonchalantly.

That's it. Ritsu gives up.

Exhaling slowly, he is unaware of the small smile of disbelief forming in his face. He's trying to be irritated right now, for Masamune doing  _exactly_ what he'd asked him not to, but he just… isn't. It's strange; usually, he's very good at being irritated with Masamune. But maybe he'd had a feeling that something like this would happen. With a long, drawn-out, long-suffering sigh of defeat that they both know is only for show, he gives in. It  _is_ his birthday, after all. He supposes that allowing himself to enjoy it just this once won't kill him. Probably. "Let me guess," he says wryly, quirking an eyebrow. "It's some kind of cake that  _just so happens,"_ he says, air quotes included, "to have been on sale yesterday?"

Masamune doesn't bat an eyelash at the wild guess. "No, it's just a regular birthday cake," he confesses like he does everything else: confidently and shamelessly.

Ritsu snorts. The honesty is refreshing.

Masamune's hands twitch. Ritsu can't see his face, but he can hear perfectly when he takes a deep breath and pleads: "Please, I know I was with you last year, but that wasn't enough for me. Not after missing your birthday for ten years. Let me celebrate today with you," he requests softly.

Ritsu's breath catches in his throat, and his heart pounds against his ribcage. Dammit, how is he supposed to be mad with  _that?_ He can't, it's impossible. "A-alright," he says weakly, before clearing his throat. "I'll eat the pancakes that you definitely didn't make for me, while I don't go to work because you coincidentally called us in on the day that happens to be my birthday," he says dryly. Saying all of that, he can hardly keep a straight face. His fiance is the most ridiculous man alive, honestly.

Masamune's mouth curves into a smile. "See, now you're getting it," he praises.

Ritsu rolls his eyes. That doesn't stop him from moving in a little closer, though, when Masamune's arms tighten around him slightly. Only because he knows Masamune can't see him, he closes his eyes and allows the smile that's been threatening to break across his face for the last few moments to win.

Masamune's hands clench around the fabric of Ritsu's pajama shirt, and he presses his head more firmly into his hair. "Happy birthday, Ritsu. I love you."

Ritsu is a mature, twenty-six-year-old adult now. But his heart skips a beat. "T-thank you."

Both of them are smiling like idiots, even long after they've sat down at the table.

Maybe, Ritsu admits in the privacy of his own mind, his birthday isn't something that needs to be avoided so fiercely. After all, now it's only the start of a new year, and a new adventure with Masamune.

' _Yeah, maybe it's not so bad.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once more: Happy Birthday Ritsu!!!!!!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> One, two, three kids, you're out!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Or, Ritsu and Masamune's Babysitting Service; Part Two. O̶f̶ ̶t̶h̶r̶e̶e̶?̶) 
> 
> Hey, y'all!!! I'm alive! 
> 
> First thing: I am so, so sorry I haven't updated in so long oh my god! I have no excuse other than Life has been a Major Bitch™ lately. I really hope that I can update again quicker next time, but my deepest apologies if I'm unable to. 
> 
> Second thing: I'm sorry I have to do this to y'all again, but this chapter was already such a monster, and I still haven't even gotten to the actual babysitting part of this damn babysitting chapter(s) that I had to break it up. Next chapter will have the fluffy babysitting we all deserve (with a dash of angst thrown in because I can't help myself) if it kills me! Alright, that's enough rambling from me. Go read! 
> 
> (P.S- I really am super sorry that this took so long. I missed all of you!)

The first time it happens, Masamune Takano is completely, totally, one hundred percent unfazed. 

It's just babysitting, right? He and Ritsu can handle watching a twelve-year-old for a day or two, no sweat. It's nothing to lose sleep over. No reason to panic. So he doesn't. Honestly, he barely even thinks about it.

(Alright, that's not exactly true. He sweats about it a little. He thinks about it  _a lot._ He's not sure how else to handle it. Suddenly being entrusted with the task of taking care of his little half-sister after meeting her  _one_  time, and after more than ten years of having little to nothing to do with his mother's new family is… daunting. So, logically, he lets it fester in the back of his mind until he can think of nothing else. It's there when he wakes up, when he goes to sleep, and in every spare moment he has all four days before it's actually time to worry about it. Needless to say: it's not the best coping mechanism.)

Masamune's only saving grace is Ritsu.

Having Ritsu step up to take Masamune's role of being the one to remind his stressed fiance to stop for five minutes in order to eat and breathe every once in a while is extremely disconcerting. Then again, he had already known that Ritsu was better at taking care of others than himself. It worries and annoys Masamune to no end, sometimes, but it's part of his charm, unfortunately.

All of that aside, Masamune will have to make sure to properly thank Ritsu for everything once he manages to get himself out from where he's trapped, wrapped up in his old head and stressing himself sick. It's not helping anyone, and he knows he needs to snap out of it. He also knows that he's being an idiot, probably worrying about nothing, and that pisses him off. He can't stop, though, and that pisses him off more. Damn, his head is a mess. Ritsu has the patience of a saint, putting up with his fiance acting like this. It is very much appreciated.

Right now, for instance, is a perfect example: "Masamune," Ritsu says firmly, while Masamune has once again zoned out and escaped into his own head, mentally listing each possible scenario in which watching Saki somehow goes horribly, tragically wrong. He'd managed to come up with quite the long list before Ritsu's warm voice had thankfully broken his concentration. "It. Will. Be. Fine," he says, slowly and carefully, with only kindness and reassurance to be found in his voice, instead of the irritation that  _should_ be there, considering how Masamune has been behaving lately. It's indescribably weird, hearing  _him_ say that for once, instead of Masamune having to say it to him.

Masamune's jaw clenches. He knows he's being ridiculous. That he's over thinking this whole thing way too extremely. It's a wonder Ritsu hasn't lost his patience yet since Masamune is even annoying himself at this point with how he's been handling this. He's a grown man, for Christ's sake, and a calm, rational, level headed one, most of the time. He doesn't usually  _worry_  like this. Now, he can't stop. "But what if," he starts, ready to recite his theories of everything with Saki inevitably ending in disaster.

Ritsu doesn't give him the chance. Drawing in one long, slow breath, likely to gather his patience, he snaps his hardcover book shut with a loud, echoing thud. That's a catastrophic event of itself. Ritsu  _never_ closes his book like that unless the situation is severely dire.

Masamune has the vaguest suspicion that the universe is about to explode. Or that their living room and the very couch they're sitting on is about to burst into flames, at least.

It doesn't, though. Not even when Ritsu puts his precious novel (another Usami original. How surprising.) down onto their coffee table, and turns to face Masamune fully. The defiant light burning brightly in his eyes makes something tighten in Masamune's chest. As does the way he turns, shifted awkwardly on their couch and leaning on his right arm to look at Masamune properly while sitting next to him. His left knee bumps into Masamune's right. "You've been distracted for  _days,"_ he says, true concern bleeding into his voice and dampening the spark in his eyes into something dimmer and more worried.

Masamune curses himself for it. He hates Ritsu being worried more than anything, but now he's the direct cause for it. Dammit.

"It's not like you," Ritsu says, and Masamune agrees completely. "I know you're worried about this weekend, but is there something else on your mind too," he asks, eyebrows furrowing and sharpening with focus on his fiance.

He looks so earnest; so desperate for Masamune to tell him what's on his mind. And Masamune wants to. (God he wants to.) But he  _can't._ He already feels guilty enough, dragging Ritsu into his messy, still somewhat splintered and awkward relationship with his family. He can't dump the dark mass of nasty, negative emotions that have been plaguing him on Ritsu, on top of forcing him to help Masamune babysit when he could be using his time to relax for once. It's too much. Ritsu doesn't deserve that.

Ritsu's emerald eyes soften when Masamune stays silent. He must be able to see the turmoil on his face. "Come on," he says, trying a new approach by drawing the words out slowly, almost in a sing-song voice. "You know you want to tell me," he teases, leaning forward and lightly nudging Masamune's bicep with his far too thin shoulder.

Caught by surprise, Masamune laughs. For a second, he stops worrying. _What the hell is he doing,_ he wonders, and the smallest tendrils of wry amusement begin overpowering the black strands of anxiety that have kept a hold over him all week. Honestly, Ritsu has to be some kind of magic. There's no other explanation.

"What's this," Ritsu asks, frowning in a faux pout. "Still not telling me?"

Masamune has to bite his lip to keep from smiling. Ritsu may have started this game, but like hell is he going to win it so easily. He mimes sealing his lips.

The exaggerated disappointment and sorrow on Ritsu's face only deepen, but the glittering mirth in his eyes more than makes up for it. "I can't believe this," he claims, shaking his head melodramatically. "My fiance is keeping secrets from me! How ever can I trust this secret keeper to marry me?"

Despite himself, and only because he knows that Ritsu is joking, the tightness in Masamune's chest eases, his lips curl, and a short, genuine burst of laughter springs forward from his chest.

Delight shines in Ritsu's eyes at the laugh, but he still doesn't yield in their little game. "And now he  _laughs_ at me," he cries, bringing his hand up to his chest like his heart has been wounded.

Masamune nearly loses. Only sheer force of will saves him.

But Ritsu never has been one to give up easily. "You leave me no choice then," he says solemnly, jaw setting firmly in the fierce way it does when he's determined about something. "No matter how long it takes, even if it means that I don't have time to eat or sleep until I collapse again, I will stop at  _nothing_  to find out what worries you're hiding from-"

Their game comes to an abrupt end when Ritsu's arm suddenly wobbles and gives out on him, and he goes crashing into Masamune's chest. It's hardly even enough to knock the wind out of him, but Ritsu does not get off so easily. A grunt of pain escapes him when he and Masamune collide none too gently.

On pure instinct, Masamune's arms shoot outwards to lock around Ritsu's waist and tug him closer before he ends up falling off of the couch and breaking his neck or something.

"Ow," Ritsu groans, releasing the death grip he'd taken on Masamune's shoulders so that he can lower his hand and rub the sore bridge of his nose.

Masamune has to fight very hard to stop himself from laughing out loud. He succeeds, but it's a close thing. God, Ritsu is too adorable; clumsiness and all. "Are you okay," he asks, scanning Ritsu's face just in case he somehow managed to break his nose. A bit unlikely, he'll admit, but if anyone could do it, it would be his world-class clutz of a fiance.

Thankfully, Ritsu nods. "Yeah, I'm okay," he reassures, laughing sheepishly. The tips of his ears are conspicuously pink.

A breath of something relieved, fond, and hopelessly gone for this graceless man currently clutched to his chest leaves him, and Masamune feels infinitely lighter than a few minutes ago. It only makes him feel even lighter when Ritsu shifts to lean against him more comfortably, essentially curling into Masamune's side. Large, concerned,  _beautiful_ green eyes peer up at him, and Masamune's heart briefly stops in his chest.

"But I'd be a lot better if you would  _please_  tell me what's been on your mind now?" Gone is the teasing and the humor and the melodramatic sorrow. Ritsu is all seriousness right now. "I want to help you, but I can't if you don't talk to me," he says, not seeing the irony in his own words.

Masamune can see it, even through his shit vision.  _Right. Because_ you  _always_   _tell me what's on_ your _mind._  He has to bite his tongue to stop himself for calling Ritsu out on his being a hypocrite. Something tells him that now isn't the best moment for that.

"You trust me, right?" It's a simple question. One that the answer to should be obvious. But Ritsu could give a particularly heavy rock a run for its money in terms of denseness. The small traces of uncertainty and hesitation in his voice (that have no business being there) stab Masamune in the chest with guilt.

"Yes. Completely. More than anyone else," he swears, cupping Ritsu's warm cheek and tilting his head up so that their eyes meet as he does. If there is one thing he's sure of in his life, other than that he loves manga, tolerates his asinine author's, and hates his boss, it's that he loves and trusts Ritsu Onodera with everything he has.

Exhaling a bit shaky with relief, Ritsu smiles; warmer and brighter than the sun. "Then let me help you with whatever's been making you look so worried lately?"

Masamune bites the inside of his cheek so hard he's surprised it doesn't start to bleed.

Carefully, Ritsu places his startlingly small, warm palm on top of Masamune's clenched knuckles. The comforting heat travels directly and unashamedly to Masamune's heart from Ritsu's fingertips. "You know you can tell me anything, right," he asks, voice firm; barely loud enough to disturb the air around them.

Masamune still has no trouble hearing him, though. He never does. "I know," he promises. Really, that was never the issue here. The problem, as always, lies with Masamune himself.

 _I do know that, but this is a lot. You shouldn't have to deal with me being like this,_ he doesn't say.

It feels like Ritsu hears him anyway. "Good." Not breaking eye contact, Ritsu brings his other hand into view. "Because that's kind of the deal, now," he points out, as the light glints off of the silver band on his finger. "I tried to warn you before, but you made it anyway. So, you're stuck with me forever, and I will tolerate no secrets and or bottling up of feelings," he declares mock haughtily, raising his chin to stare up at Masamune defiantly.

Him accusing Masamune of hiding his true emotions is the pot calling the kettle black. Of the two of them, Ritsu is wildly more notorious for refusing to talk about any feelings that "infect" him. (His words, not Masamune's.) Nevertheless, he can't argue with that flawed, biased logic. A small, short, incredulous laugh erupts from his chest. "That's a low blow, Onodera," he scolds, although it sounds more defeated than admonishing.

The corners of Ritsu's mouth curl. "Indeed it is, Takano," he counters shamelessly. He doesn't back down, but he never does.

Masamune shakes his head, mostly at himself. He's fighting a losing battle, and he can't figure out why he's still trying.

The teasing smile on Ritsu's face fades a little. "You always help me when I need you," he reminds Masamune, squeezing the top of his hand briefly. "Don't you think it's about time you let me help you, too?"

A direct attack to the heart. How cruel.  _You have already helped me so much more than I can ever explain or repay to you._ Does Ritsu really not know that?

Ritsu's hands tense, and he bites the corner of his bottom lip harder the longer Masamune doesn't answer.

Apparently, he doesn't know. Masamune should have expected that. It's so like Ritsu to not realize such an important fact. Despite his best efforts, that's what does it. The final thread of hesitation snaps. That's all the prompting he needs. Really, how in the world did he think he stood a chance against  _that?_ With a sigh, he gives in. (That's how it always seems to end, when he's up against Ritsu. He honestly doesn't mind it so much anymore.) "I rely on you enough as it is," he confesses, moving his hand so that his palm meets Ritsu's, and intertwining their fingers together.

Ritsu's lips purse, showing that he disagrees, but he doesn't interrupt Masamune to insist otherwise.

Masamune appreciates that. He's not sure if he'd be able to find the energy or will power to say this more than once. "I just," he starts, feeling vaguely like his teeth are being pulled. "I can't stop worrying about how this weekend will go." Admitting that out loud for the first time removes a heavy weight that he hadn't even known was crushing his chest.

Ritsu squeezes his hand comfortingly. "Okay. That's okay." Finally, they're getting somewhere. "What exactly is it that has you the most worried, then," he asks, looking for the root of the problem, logical as always.

Masamune nearly laughs. Not at Ritsu of course, but at the idea of trying to pick out only one of the thousand sources of his newfound distress. It's simply not possible. But he'll try, for Ritsu. "What if she ends up hating me," he asks, dread striking his heart as he gives voice to his most pressing worry for the first time. He just met her and has only begun getting used to the idea- no, the reality that he has a  _sister._ If he screws up and makes her despise him so soon after meeting… Well, it would hurt. Badly. He's already lost his family once. To go through that again would be devastating.

Ritsu's left hand is still preoccupied being tangled up with Masamune's, so he has no choice but to resort to raising his right hand in order to flick Masamune's forehead.

Masamune lets out an offended grunt in response. Irritation flickers across his face.

A small sense of vindictive justice fills Ritsu. Revenge for all the times Masamune has done the same to him is sweet, indeed. Regardless, it's not the priority at the moment. That would be reassuring his unordinarily frazzled fiance.

When something is disruptive enough to shake even Masamune -the most unforgiving, tyrannical, slave driver demon editor-in-chief Marukawa has ever seen- that's when it's time to be concerned.

Ritsu passed that point long ago. It's strange, being the calm and collected one, but he can and will be just that if it's what Masamune needs. Starting with ridding him of the ridiculous notion of his little half-sister (who clearly already adores him after their first meeting) somehow growing to hate him in the span of the two days they'll be watching her. "That won't happen," he states confidently, no trace of doubt or uncertainty to be found in his voice or his mind.

Ritsu's unusual spell of self-assurance does not go unnoticed by Masamune. After all, his confidence is more elusive than Yokozawa's patience or Isaka's organizational skills. The rare occasions it does make an appearance are not to be disregarded. "What makes you so sure about that," he asks, curious about what has his normally oh-so wishy-washy fiance so convicted for once. "What if I do something wrong, or say something stupid and offend her somehow? It could happen," he insists.

Ritsu's lips tug upwards sardonically. "It won't. Take it from someone who tried to for a very,  _very_ long time: hating you is goddamn near impossible," he informs Masamune matter-of-factly. "Eleven years later, and look how that turned out," he says, glancing pointedly at his ring.

Masamune is slightly offended by the resignation in Ritsu's tone and the exasperation on his face. "Is this supposed to be encouraging," he demands.

Ritsu looks up at him sourly. Masamune can tell that he'd be crossing his arms over his chest by now if he had both of his hands free. "Don't look at me like that; I had a  _lot_ of reasons to hate you."

Is this supposed to be a pep talk? Because if so, it isn't a very well thought out one. "This is not helping," Masamune bumps Ritsu in the side lightly.

Ritsu's bumps him right back. Albeit a bit more roughly than Masamune had. His cheeks redden with annoyance. "We're getting off topic," he says with a sharp glare. It would be more hurtful if his side wasn't pressed against Masamune's while their fingers are tangled together.

Masamune has to concentrate to avoid laughing. Truthfully, he already feels better than he has all week, thanks entirely to Ritsu. That doesn't mean that he'll ever ignore an opportunity for teasing, though.

(Masamune wonders, were he to ask, if Ritsu would still vehemently claim that the only reason behind his gestures of affection could be blamed on his body's refusal to cooperate with his mind. It's been a while since he got to hear Ritsu drop that line. He can't truthfully say that he  _misses_ Ritsu shoving him away with razor-sharp words and scowls made out of glass over and over again as he had back then, but something about the way Ritsu is grumbling darkly under his breath -even while he stays tucked into Masamune's side with no signs of fully pulling away- has him feeling… nostalgic.)

Sadly, it seems that Ritsu doesn't feel the same nostalgia. What a shame. "What I'm trying to say," he bites out, unwittingly pulling Masamune away from his impromptu trip down memory lane. "Is that you have nothing to worry about with Saki since you made even  _me,_ someone with many,  _many_ reasons to hate you, fall in love with you instead," he concludes, frowning in a look that dares Masamune to challenge him.

Masamune's heart does a backflip. Ritsu always claims that he's bad with words, and that's true, most of the time, but still, he never ceases to find just what Masamune needs to hear every time.

Ritsu's vexed scowl fades into a softer smile of relief when Masamune fails to argue. "In spite of everything I tried to do to keep you away, I still ended up loving you more than anything," he confesses, voice quiet, while still ringing in Masamune's ears with how powerful that statement is to him. "I have no doubt that it will be the same with Saki, god help that child."

The true melancholy and empathy for Saki in his voice is too much. Masamune laughs. Then, he realizes that he's laughed more today than he has in the last four days altogether. It still scares him sometimes, relearning just how much power Ritsu's words and actions have over him. It's also exhilarating and captivating though, so he figured out how to deal with it a long time ago. Ritsu is worth it.

The fond, relieved amusement once again sparks the light behind Ritsu's eyes. Masamune is glad to see it again. "What are you laughing for? You know it's true," he says, light teasing brightening his tone to match his eyes. "You managed to get  _me_ wrapped around your little finger. Not to mention half of Marukawa. Saki doesn't stand a chance," he says, shaking his head in sympathy for the twelve-year-old who has no idea what's about to hit her.

Masamune hates to admit it, but Ritsu has a point there. Although he has to disagree with the part about Ritsu being wrapped around  _his_  finger. It's obviously the opposite.

Ritsu shifts next to him, settling against Masamune more comfortably. The side of his head rests against the edge of Masamune's arm. On instinct, Masamune drapes an arm over his shoulder. It's always nice knowing that Ritsu is close enough for him to do that. It soothes the hot and ugly thing that lives in his heart that had started living there when he was eighteen.

Usually, Ritsu would complain, but today there's not a word of protest. "So? I know that's not the only thing you were worried about. What else has been on your mind lately," he asks. "I can promise that whatever else it is, won't be as bad as you're expecting."

Masamune has to pause to think. That's noteworthy, considering that, for days, he's been dwelling so intensely on all of the negative possibilities that could come to pass this weekend that he's nearly been drowned by them. Eventually, one of them floats to the surface of his mind. "What if," he starts, grasping at straws. "What if something happens to her while she's with us? What if she gets hurt?" The thought of any harm coming to the little girl, or of the sweet smile on her face dissapearing makes something deep within him shudder.

Saki is so young. So full of potential and joy and  _life._ If anything were to happen to her…

A warm hand on Masamune's face brings him out of his dark thoughts.

"That won't happen," Ritsu vows, voice unwavering -and somehow gentle as well- as the hand on Masamune's cheek. "She's young, but she's a smart girl. She won't get into any unnecessary trouble."

The words wash over Masamune with a wave of reassurance. Unable to help himself, he closes his eyes for a second and leans into Ritsu's palm. He must catch Ritsu off guard, judging by the almost undetectable lapse in his breathing. It's amusing (and comforting) that even after everything they've done, something innocent like this is still able to affect Ritsu. Anyone else wouldn't notice how he tries to play it off as he subtly coughs to clear his throat, but Masamune knows all of his tricks by now.  _God, he's too cute._

Ritsu's voice is a little unsteady when he speaks next. "And… and she'll have four eyes watching her the whole time. It would be really hard for anything to happen to her even through that," he reasons, sadly becoming more composed as time passes.

Perhaps, though, the composed and logical Ritsu is the one he needs more right now, even if the flustered and shy Ritsu is arguably cuter. The tight knot of stress, anxiety, and impending doom that's been constricting Masamune's chest for the last few days, loosens up and begins to unravel nearly instantaneously under Ritsu's warm presence now.

Ritsu smiles, and Masamune is struck with a powerful urge to draw Ritsu onto his lap and bury his face into his neck. It's nothing that he doesn't already feel on a constant basis though, so he's able to fight it without much trouble. It gets even easier to ignore it when the smile on Ritsu's face becomes slightly mischievous, along with the spark in his eyes. "Well, three and a half eyes, anyway," he amends, ever so innocently tapping the side of Masamune's glasses. "Your vision is really shitty," he says, barely keeping the giggles threatening to spill from his lips under control.

Masamune blinks; confused. It takes him far longer to process Ritsu's insult than he'll ever admit to. "Hey," he protests, after the excruciatingly embarrassing amount of time it takes for his brain to catch up to the situation.

Ritsu manages to keep up his nonchalant, guiltless facade for an entire three seconds before he finally cracks and begins to laugh at the offended expression on Masamune's face until he's gasping for breath.

Masamune's heart automatically lightens at hearing one of the sounds he loves more than anything else in the world. It's like magic, the way it swiftly melts the last shreds of doubt and anxiety that had been clinging to him for so long. Ritsu -his laugh, his smile, god, everything about him- is something else. Regardless, his rudeness cannot go unpunished.

"Ow!" Ritsu's ringing laughter comes to an abrupt halt as he raises his hands to prevent another assault in the form of Masamune flicking him on the forehead.

Satisfaction tugs at Masamune's lips. Maybe next time Ritsu will think twice before trying to use his own move against him. Flicking Ritsu's forehead is  _his_ thing and he refuses to have it stolen away. "What was that you were saying about my vision," he asks, calling upon all of his years spent bullying authors into handing in their storyboards and demanding extensions from the printers to project an aura of intimidation from himself.

Once upon a time, that would have worked on Ritsu. But their life is no longer the strange, twisted fairy tale it had been back in the early days of their relationship, and now he hardly bats an eyelash while he grumbles under his breath. What a shame. His face does turn red though, so Masamune counts it as a win.

To earn his pardon (and because he knows it will make Ritsu's face turn an even brighter shade of red than it is now), Masamune presses a kiss of apology to Ritsu's forehead.

Ritsu huffs exasperatedly, and as expected, his cheeks do turn darker, but he accepts the wordless apology anyway.

Just to be sure, Masamune squeezes his hand.

Ritsu's unimpressed expression warms to one of fond annoyance, and he shakes his head in defeat. Then, he squeezes back, and Masamune knows he's been forgiven.

Masamune pulls Ritsu in closer to himself, until their sides are pressed together from shoulder to toe. It's been a while since he's felt this relaxed, and he feels no shame in taking in as much of Ritsu's comforting presence as he can.

Ritsu hums absently, and his hand not trapped within Masamune's travels up to meet the short black strands of his fiance's hair. For a few seconds, not a word is said between them. There's nothing but the distant sound of their neighbors chattering in the hallway, and the nearly inaudible sound of fingers lightly twisting through hair.

Masamune's heart rate kicks up a few notches.

"We'll be okay. Okay?" Ritsu waits for Masamune to nod in response before continuing. The glint of determination that flashes in his green eyes makes something in Masamune's chest tighten, but in a good way this time. "We face much worse than a twelve-year-old on a daily basis. Printers and procrastinating authors are way more life-threatening. We can do anything if we work together, much to Yokozawa's dismay."

A quick, unwitting laugh is pulled from Masamune's chest. That's certainly one way to look at it. And the mental image of his best friend's face if he could hear the conversation they're having right now is deeply amusing. That reminds him, they should invite Yokozawa over for drinks soon. It's been a while.

Ritsu smiles because  _finally,_ Masamune is smiling again. Thank goodness. Then, he nudges Masamune in the side. "Well," he asks, his soft voice kept low, like he doesn't want to disturb the silence. "What else were you worried about? Overthinking and stressing about things that won't happen are my thing, so I can tell you how and why you everything this weekend will be  _fine,"_  he says, only a minor touch of humor in his otherwise serious offer.

Masamune pauses to think. There are a few more unpleasant possible scenarios that have starred in his overactive imagination lately, but he has a feeling that Ritsu really will find a way to counter each and every one. Also, somewhere inside him, he knows that Ritsu is right. He might as well give in and save them both the trouble.

In his defense, Ritsu does _try_ to hide his relieved smile when Masamune sighs loudly -being pointedly overdramatic- in defeat. He's always been good at keeping his emotions under lock and key, but he's never been very good at hiding them. It's one of the most infuriating things about him.

Tragically, it's also one of the things Masamune loves about him the most. He can't win. "I thought I was supposed to be the level headed one, while you worried about things that don't need to be worried about," he says, nose wrinkling with displeasure. "How do you live like this?"

Ritsu snorts. "Welcome to my world."

Masamune is tempted to flick Ritsu's forehead again. So, he does. Ritsu's gasp of outrage amuses him greatly. What? It's not like he can say what he's about to without  _some_ form of punishment. "Fine," he sighs heavily, from the bottom of his heart, feeling a deep sense of wrongness in the universe within him for what he's about to do. Its countered, though, by the way his lungs deflate, and then fill up again; slow, steady, and more fully then he can recall to his recent memory. "You  _may_ have a point about… everything," he admits. His chest lightens further still. "Maybe I've been over thinking these last few days," he allows.

Ritsu's eyebrows raise skeptically. Masamune can practically hear him say:  _geez, you think?_

He has no room to talk, but Masamune is in a better mood now than he has been for a while, so he doesn't point that out. Three seconds pass and no sudden natural disaster occurs, nor does the planet spontaneously combust. Interesting.

Of course, Ritsu doesn't make it easy. Not that he ever does. "What's this," he inquires, pretending to be shocked, in spite of the genuine relief Masamune can see softening his eyes. "Are you actually admitting out loud that I was right?" The exaggerated shock in his voice is uncalled for. Don't get Masamune wrong, it's completely justified -he can count on one hand the number of times he's been forced to admit that someone other than himself is right- but uncalled for nonetheless.

Masamune can't decide if he's annoyed or enamored. Neither can he be bothered to figure out which one it is, so he settles for both. (Secretly, he admits that it's mostly enamored.) "Don't get used to it," he warns, untangling his fingers from Ritsu's in order to tilt his fiance's head upwards so that he can kiss him without craning his neck too badly.

Ritsu breathes in sharply through his nose. His hands fly up, wrapping around the nape of Masamune's neck as his fingers bury themselves into the black strands of hair there.

A fire lights under Masamune's skin, and he draws in a ragged breath as he breaks the kiss (pulling a throaty whimper of protest from Ritsu's reddened lips) and pulling his fiance closer so that he can sink his teeth into the smooth, pale skin of Ritsu's neck that's an intoxicating combination of salty and sweet. On one side. The other. Everywhere he can possibly reach.

Ritsu's entire body trembles as a shuddering gasp tears from him as his hands clench at Masamune's skin. His nails dig in a bit, but that's not important.

The sound clears some of the haze from Masamune's head, and he pauses in his assault on Ritsu's neck in order to press a lighter, gentler kiss of apology to the angry red marks he'd just placed there.

Ritsu's pulse jumps and his breath stutters in response. "I would never," he says, voice so deep and choked off and far gone that it's criminal.

That does it. The last remaining bit of Masamune's self-control, which had already been hanging on by a thread, falls. And so does he, all over again. His body, acting on its own, surges forward again and presses Ritsu down into their brown leather couch cushions.

Normally, there would be at least a grumble at this point about Masamune being terribly impatient, but Ritsu doesn't utter a word.

Or, if he does, Masamune is too far gone to hear it. Who knows? Right now, all he can focus on is the body underneath his radiating heat, and the fact that the old, faded grey t-shirt Ritsu is wearing is one that he stole from Masamune is not helping his lack of restraint. A piece of it may or may not tear in his haste to pull it over Ritsu's head, but who can say?

Ritsu shivers when the air hits his now bare torso.

Masamune gets right to work warming him up. One day he'll stop acting like a complete idiot whenever it concerns Ritsu, but today is not that day. There should be a limit for how many times one person can fall for Ritsu Onodera in a lifetime. To be fair, though, it's not as if anything even vaguely associated with Ritsu Onodera could ever possibly know the meaning of the word limit.

_We can do anything if we work together._

Masamune likes the sound of that.

* * *

For a little while, it feels like everything will be alright. That should have been the first clue that everything was about to go to hell in a handbasket.

When it happens again, Masamune is a bit suspicious. The timing is too coincidental for him to be otherwise. To this day, he curses himself for allowing the false sense of security that he had felt to fool him as much as it did. Perhaps if he'd been more aware of his surroundings, he could have avoided it, but no such luck.

It starts, of course, because of his terrible habit that's going to be the death of him one day. He really needs to quit. It's never caused him anything but problems. It won't be today, though. He'd only snuck away from his department for three -not even three- minutes for a quick smoke, he swears. When the door to the break room he'd hidden in opens (reminding him that time to himself extending past five seconds is a luxury that does not exist), a pulse of irritation spikes through his forehead. How foolish of him to think that he could catch more than a few moments at a time in order to breathe.

It's Yokozawa.

Masamune is not as surprised by that fact as he should be. If anyone would manage to find him at a time he pointedly did not want to be found, it would be Yokozawa. The grim look of determination on his face tells Masamune that it is no coincidence that they're here at the same time. This will be fun; he can already tell. (And in case it's not obvious, he is being incredibly sarcastic right now.)

It's three o'clock in the afternoon when Yokozawa corners him. He doesn't shout an insult when he sees Masamune, leaning against the wall with a cigarette hanging from his mouth where he is. That's when Masamune knows that something bad is about to happen. A silent, not bitching Yokozawa is never a good omen.

Today does not prove to be an exception to that rule. Truly shocking. "I need a favor," Yokozawa admits gruffly, leaning against the wall next to him.

Masamune sighs. Damn, he hates being right all the time. Any hopes for the "favor" Yokozawa needs being something as simple as lending him a cigarette are quickly dashed. Figures. That would have been too easy. He takes a conspicuously long time getting to the point, but when he does, Masamune almost drops his cigarette.  _You have got to be kidding me._

The universe is laughing. It has to be.

It turns out that Kirishima and Yokozawa made plans (code for Kirishima planned something and sprung it on Yokozawa after everything was already decided) to take a trip to the hot springs for the weekend.  _This_  weekend. It had supposedly been sorted out completely, and a babysitter had been selected for the task of taking care of Kirishima's daughter. Everything should have been smooth sailing, but…

"The babysitter called this morning to tell us that she had to back out, so now we're shit out of luck," Yokozawa says, annoyance pouring from his tone.

 _Ah._ Now Masamune knows what he wants. Usually, if Yokozawa asks for a favor, he doesn't beat around the bush like this, but this is  _important. Dammit, I just wanted a smoke._  Internally sighing, he takes another long drag of his cigarette.

"You want me to watch the kid, right," he says, confirming rather than asking.

Yokozawa's nod is sharp, but his eyes are soft. "She's a good kid. She won't cause you any problems," he promises, lips curling into something dangerously close to a smile.

Masamune feels his eyebrow raise. This kid really has Yokozawa whipped, it seems. _Hm. What the hell,_ he thinks. He's already watching one kid. What's the harm in making it two? Plus, young or old, anyone who can put that expression on Yokozawa's face is someone he's interested in meeting.

"Alright. Fine. Bring her over before you two leave," Masamune instructs him, letting out another long puff of smoke afterward. Never let Yokozawa say he never does anything nice for him.

Yokozawa looks surprised. Like he hadn't expected Masamune to agree so easily. He knows better than to question it though. Smart. "Okay. And thank you. I owe you one," he says, pushing off from the wall and taking a few steps towards the door.

If they're still keeping score, then Masamune is the one who is in a debt that he can never repay. This is nothing. But like hell is he going to tell Yokozawa that. "Yeah yeah." He waves Yokozawa off and puts out his cigarette. He needs to get back to work, too.

He nods. Then, Yokozawa is gone. Just like that _,_ and what little sense of preparedness Masamune had felt regarding this weekend is tossed out the window.

Two. Two more small, dependent humans than Masamune has ever cared for in his life. Why in the world did he agree to this? Being entrusted with supervising one child had already been daunting enough. Two is just asking for trouble. And to make matters worse, a crucial detail he'd conveniently neglected to consider occurs to him, and he lets his head hit the wall with a dull thud and a groan.

_This is going to be fun to explain to Ritsu._

* * *

It would have been bad enough if it had stopped at the second time, but after the third time it happens, the whole thing goes well past the point of becoming downright ridiculous. And it doesn't even happen to Masamune, this time.

Now, it's Ritsu's turn.

"Onodera," a familiar, ringing voice calls out, stopping Ritsu, and therefore Masamune, in their tracks where they stand right outside of Marukawa's front doors. It's Mino. He sounds urgent. Mino almost never sounds urgent.

Masamune tilts his head down and shoots Ritsu a questioning look. His hazel eyes are clearly saying  _what the hell does he want with you?_

Ritsu is tempted to shove him. _How am I supposed to know,_ he silently shoots back with a shrug.  _I just want to go home, dammit._

Masamune's lips quirk, from which Ritsu can infer that his admittedly childish response has been understood. Good.

Oh, right, Mino. "You're still here, thank goodness." For some reason, the relief in Mino's voice strikes dread into Ritsu's heart. His posture is a touch more slumped than usual. He must be  _extremely_ tired. And yet, he'd still found it important enough to stop Ritsu with a desperation tinged voice and a serious look in his eyes.

 _'Oh, no.'_  Ritsu wants to cry. Why does something _always_ happen right as he's about to leave a place? Is it because of karma? A coincidence? Did he do something terrible in a past life to get cursed to never get a moment of peace? (Yes, the rational part of his brain realizes that his theories are a bit overdramatic, but due to a lovely combination of sleep deprivation, overworking, and far,  _far_ too much caffeine, the rational part of his brain is currently out of service, do not contact again please and thank you.)

Privately, he blames Erika Ichinose for this one. Damn stubborn woman, if she hadn't gotten into another vicious, long-winded argument with Masamune five minutes before they were supposed to leave, everything would have been fine, and he could have been home by now, in bed reading a book instead of being stopped on Marukawa's soul-sucking front porch. Curse her for being the cause of this, both directly and indirectly. He doesn't know how, or when, but one day, he  _will_ get her back for this; he swears it. First, though, there's another issue that must be attended to. Luck is on Ichinose's side for now, but there's only so long it can last, and he can be very, very patient when he needs to be.

"Onodera," Mino says again, jogging and coming to a stop in front of the couple. He lifts his back higher onto his shoulder. "I'm sorry to do this so suddenly, but I didn't know who else to ask."

This can't end well.  _'Dammit all,'_ Ritsu silently curses, nearly sinking to his knees in exhaustion where he stands. Don't get him wrong, he likes Mino plenty, but he is  _not_ in the mood for any more social interaction today, thank you very much. It's been a long week, and right now the only thing he wants is his bed and his book. (Okay, and  _maybe_ to steal one of Masamune's old, faded t-shirts again. Hey, it's not his fault that those things are so damn comfortable.)

Ritsu, despite the pressing exhaustion tugging at his eyelids, his limbs, and his mind (wow he is  _tired)_  is prepared for many things. If there's one thing his parents did right, it's train him to never let his guard down, even when he feels the safest.

Hm. That sounded less bitter in his head. Oh well.

There's a possibility that Mino just wants some brief small talk, no matter that he knows how terrible Ritsu is at participating in it. Or maybe Mino stopped him because he wants a quick update one of his old author's (now under Ritsu's care) storyboards. It wouldn't be the first time, and Ritsu can hardly fault Mino for wanting to check up on one of his previous artists. He would do the same for Ms. Mutou. Perhaps there's even a chance that he wants to announce that one of his more stubborn authors is only one day past the deadline granted to them by the printers!

Yeah, he knows that last one is  _way_  too unrealistic, but hey, a -stressed and exhausted from battling off the printers- guy can dream.

Anyway, the point is that Ritsu expects many things. Whatever Mino wants, it can't be that bad, right?

"Is there any way that you can watch Yamato this weekend?"

God, how is he so wrong all the time? It shouldn't be scientifically possible. Ritsu had expected anything but  _that._ "Uh… What?" His voice sounds faint to his own ears.

Mino grimaces. He'd been hoping for a more concrete answer, but the confusion had been more likely. He has to ask the question twice in order to get a response other than a dropped jaw (from Ritsu) and raised eyebrows (from Masamune).

The second time around doesn't go much better than the first, on Ritsu's end anyway. Hysterical stuttering is involved. Lots of stuttering.  _'There's no way that Mino just asked that, is there?'_  His ears must have decided to play a cruel joke on him.

Sadly, judging by the grave set of Mino's shoulders, that is not the case.

In the midst of Ritsu's stammering, he spares a moment to hope that the look on his face isn't as bewildered as he suspects. This situation has become officially crazy. It takes him longer than he likes to admit to get himself back under control.  _"Me?"_ He points at himself again, voice strained with confusion and surprise.

Mino nods solemnly, and it's a true testament to how desperate he is that his normal serene smile is nowhere to be found, for once. "I'm sorry to spring this on you so suddenly, but this was a last minute thing and Yamato will never listen to any babysitter I choose." He frowns apologetically. "I can't leave him alone, but where I'm going is not a good environment for a child. You're the only one I can trust to be understanding."

Ritsu's face warms at the trust being bestowed upon him by Mino. He can't truthfully say that he knows much about Yamato since he's only met the boy in person once, but he knows that there is nothing in this world more precious to Mino than his son. It must be really important if he's asking Ritsu on such short notice. Ritsu wants to help, really he does, but… _Three kids?!_

Nope. Not happening. That's just too many. Masamune telling Ritsu that he'd agreed to watch Hiyori Kirishima as a favor to Yokozawa was bad enough. Ritsu -after calming himself down from the lovely, all-encompassing panic he'd worked himself into- hadn't even been able to look at him after that little stunt was revealed. He'd made Masamune sleep on the couch. (True, he was only able to keep it up for thirty minutes before allowing Masamune back into the bed next to him, but it was the principle of the matter!)

Ritsu Onodera knows many things, but not a damn one about children. How often do they need to go outside? What do they eat? What do they do if one of them gets hurt? He can't answer any of those simple questions, yet now he's expected to watch over not the one child he'd planned for, or the second one that had been sprung on him, but  _three_ of them?

Sorry, but no.

 _'Surely someone else that's more qualified can take care of him,'_  Ritsu decides. He opens his mouth to say as much, but he hesitates when Mino's figure seems to shrink before his very eyes.

Mino sighs, shoulders slumping for a flash, and rubs the bridge of his nose. The gesture highlights the deep, dark bags under his eyes. He really does appear to be at his wit's end. "I swear I wouldn't ask you if I had any other choice. It doesn't hurt that I honestly think that you're the best person for the job. Plus, Yamato _likes_ you, Onodera. That doesn't happen often. I don't know what you said to him that time he got lost, but whatever it was worked miracles. And as much as I love him to death, that doesn't change that it's  _astoundingly_  difficult to find somebody he'll listen to as quickly as he did with you." A long, deep exhale that sounds more like a defeated sigh is pulled from his lungs.

Sympathy fills Ritsu. He will never stop being amazed by Mino, and his ability to not only be a fantastic and productive editor, but to do all of that and then some, while also balancing a  _child._ The mere thought is staggering to him. Now, though, is one of the first times he's ever seen Mino looks so… exhausted. It feels like something he shouldn't be seeing. Guilt claws at his chest. It's not like Mino has ever asked him anything like this before. He shouldn't say no without even considering it.

Masamune only shrugs when Ritsu turns to look at him over his shoulder. How very helpful.

Tossing a glance of annoyance at Masamune, Ritsu turns back to face Mino. He means to ask for more time and to give a proper answer tomorrow, but when he sees the tiredness etched into Mino's face, the decision has already been made. His mouth is moving before his mind has the chance to catch up. "I'll do it," he promises.

Mino blinks in surprise.

Ritsu does too.  _'Shit. I guess I can't take it back now.'_ Curse his faulty brain to mouth filter!

Strangely, though, when gratitude shines in Mino's eyes, Ritsu doesn't feel as overwhelmed as he did before. "Are you sure," he asks cautiously. "I know that I caught you off guard, so if you need a little more time to think about it," he offers.

_'Ah, fuck it.'_

Ritsu shakes his head. "It's okay, I really don't mind. Besides, we're already watching two kids this weekend." He laughs when he hears himself say that; slightly hysterical at this absurd situation. "What's one more?"

Mino's eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Two kids? How in the world did that happen," he asks disbelievingly.

A powerful wave of weariness washes over Ritsu, and he has to fight the urge to sink to the floor. "That's what I'd like to know."

Somewhere behind Ritsu, Masamune huffs a quiet, incredulous laugh.

Jerk. Ritsu elbows him in the ribs. The rush of air from Masamune's lungs in response is oddly satisfying. "Anyway, It's a long story. Don't ask," he warns Mino.

Mino still looks puzzled as all get out, but he takes Ritsu's advice and doesn't question it. "Okay then. If you say so," he agrees because he's smart. Ritsu both admires and envies him for it. "Really, thank you so much for doing this, you have no idea how stressed I've been about this weekend."

Ritsu hopes the low laugh that escapes him isn't as bitter as he thinks it sounds.  _'Oh, I have some idea.'_

Mino's smile finally returns, though, and Ritsu can't bring himself to regret his rash decision to help him out. Too much. He bids Ritsu and Masamune a good night, giving them a few more details about when and where he'll drop off Yamato, and then he's gone.

Reality doesn't Dawn on Ritsu instantly. There's a short pause before the storm.  _'Wait a second…'_ he thinks, before the crash hits in slow motion.

Three.

Two.

One.

 _'What the_ hell _did I just agree to?'_ Ritsu's legs feel weak. This is going to be a disaster.

First, there was Saki, who was already a big enough deal on her own. Then Hiyori got added into the mix, and now Yamato, too?

Masamune lets out a deep exhale. "Looks like we're going to have a very busy weekend," he says, smiling sardonically.

Ritsu feels a sudden urge to cry. Hopelessly, he looks over at Masamune, hoping he will tell him that that  _didn't_  just happen.

Masamune, helpful as always, shrugs back.

Ritsu groans, nearly sinking to the ground. The old, sadly familiar ache in his stomach makes itself known.  _'This is fine,'_  he tells himself firmly. It isn't very convincing. Yeah, they  _might_  have bitten off more than they can chew, but that's fine. It's fine. This is fine.

(It's not fine, but like hell will Ritsu be the first one to say it.)

* * *

Three. Not the one child they had been planning to care for this weekend, or even the two that would have maybe been manageable.  _Three_ children. God help them.

Ritsu is floundering here. This is so far out of his comfort zone that it isn't even in the same galaxy. Yes, he's been entrusted to help take charge of the three kids being left in his and Masamune's care, but that doesn't change the reality that he knows next to nothing about kids. It's not as if he ever spent time around many other children, even when he was a child himself. (Being forced to play house under An's command doesn't seem like a valid point of reference.) Will they want to play games? Watch movies? Draw? Scream? What if they get upset and demand to return to their parents? What if they fight or fall and hurt themselves? What if they...

Ah, now all of Masamune's worries and stress from a few days ago makes more sense. Still, he handles it better than Ritsu in any case. Not that that's anything new. If only Ritsu could have even a fraction of that same ability Masamune has to roll with every single punch thrown at him with ease. Nothing  _fazes_ him. At least, not outwardly. Ritsu has learned how to see through the cracks in his fiance's armor by now. Masamune is good at genuinely being cool, calm, and infuriatingly collected most of the time, but he's also good at hiding the things that truly do bother him, which is just as annoying (and worrying) as it sounds.

Right now, point in case. "What are we," Masamune demands incredulously, lips tugged down in irritation. "Some kind of babysitting service?" He's stretched out comfortably on their bed, scrolling on his phone with one hand, and supporting the back of his head with the other. He's the picture of relaxation, appearing laid back and carefree. Ritsu itches with the intrusive impulse to push him off of the bed; if only to make him show some damn emotion.

From his position propped up against the headboard, Ritsu peers down at him and watches him closely. Masamune _appears_  relaxed, but Ritsu knows better. He isn't fooled for a second by the nonchalant mask. Nobody else would be able to see the tense set of Masamune's jaw or the intense focus in his eyes, but he does. Easily. Something is wrong.

Masamune is a good actor, he'll give him that. He looks, by all accounts, to be without a care. Too bad Ritsu knows how to see past the bored looking facade, now. His irritation is also less than believable, considering that when Ritsu rolls over on his side he can see that Masamune has used his phone to look up 'Fun activities kids enjoy'.

_'Cute.'_

Vaguely amused, and not so vaguely concerned, Ritsu saves his page, places his book carefully down on the bedside table, and turns the lamp he had been using to read off. Then, he lays down, shifting a little closer into Masamune's side in the process. "Something like that, apparently," he says, accidentally letting a yawn slip around his wry smile.

Now, this should be the part where Masamune huffs irately and grumbles empty threats and profanities under his breath. Perhaps with a few dark promises of revenge in the near future thrown in for emphasis of how pissed off he is. This time, though, he doesn't stick with the usual script. He doesn't even look at Ritsu, which stings just a little. His eyes stay glued to his phone. Something is darkening the normally light hazel into something more bitter and disgusted.

Ritsu's heart twinges. His suspicions that something isn't right are confirmed. Masamune is acting even weirder than he was a few days ago. The first time, it was worry and anxiety that plagued him. That issue had been dealt with, though. Something's bothering him again, but whatever it is afflicting him now isn't the same as it was before. Not entirely, anyway. That expression; it almost looks like -as difficult as it is to believe that he's capable of such an emotion- self-loathing. (One emotion Ritsu is, sadly, all too familiar with. He recognizes it like an old friend, by now.)

Ritsu doesn't know what's going on, or what could have tripped the switch in Masamune from pensive, but relaxed as he was earlier, to  _this,_ but he intends to find out.  _'What are you thinking about, Masamune?'_ He wonders.

To his credit, Masamune's disinterested mask is almost perfect. The only give away are the eyes; so cold and angry, but also… sad?

Ritsu's breath catches at the dizzying array of emotions he can see. Knowing that they're coming from Masamune, though, makes his chest feel tight. He's not sure how to help, but he'll be damned if he doesn't try. Here goes nothing. "Hey," he says softly, rolling onto his side so that he can look at Masamune. "What's wrong," he asks, leaning on his elbow and propping his head up on his hand.

Masamune still doesn't look at him. In the light of his phone screen, Ritsu can see his lips purse and his eyebrows draw together.

Another twinge in Ritsu's chest. Seeing Masamune look like that hurts. He doesn't know what else to do, so he reaches out and loosely curls his fingers around Masamune's forearm. "What's going on in that weird head of yours," he asks with a small smile that he hopes doesn't look too worried, trying to lighten the mood however he can.

It does the trick. Masamune finally looks away from his screen and his eyes soften when they flicker to Ritsu. His arm begins to slide out of Ritsu's grip, but when their palms meet he takes hold, and brings Ritsu's hand towards him and presses his lips to the back of Ritsu's knuckles. At his side, where his phone lays forgotten, the screen fades to black. "Crap, I'm doing it again," he whispers, sounding horribly defeated, and nothing like the Take-no-shit Masamune Takano that Ritsu knows and loves.

The thing in Ritsu's chest falters. "What's wrong," he asks again, voice almost too quiet for even himself to hear.

Masamune's hand clenches around Ritsu's briefly. He looks away. "I'm sorry," he says, still in that same low, uncharacteristically defeated tone that doesn't suit him at all.

It's like a knife slices across Ritsu's heart. Masamune should never sound like that.

"I was just reading all of this stuff," Masamune starts, releasing Ritsu's hand so that he can snake his arm around Ritsu's shoulder and pull him into his chest. His arm settles around Ritsu's waist. "And it was getting to me."

Ritsu obliges him. The top of his head brushes again the space underneath Masamune's chin. A steady heartbeat meets his ear. He brings his palm up, and lays it flat against Masamune's chest; foolishly allowing himself to imagine that he's healing all of the cracks there, if only for a moment. He wishes it could be that easy. "What was getting to you," he asks, absently tracing an 'x' across the shirt over Masamune's heart.

Masamune takes a deep breath, and Ritsu's head lifts higher into the air along with it. "I'm not even really sure," he admits, laughing once humorlessly.

The sound is painful to listen to. Ritsu frowns.

"I've just been thinking about Saki a lot lately, and I think I'm jealous of her," Masamune confesses.

That catches Ritsu off guard. "Jealous? Why?" Damn it all, he would give anything to be able to see what's going through Masamune's head right now.

Masamune doesn't want to jostle Ritsu, so he makes a vague sound to acknowledge that he heard the question. "I guess, because she's everything I'm not, and she has everything I never did."

The words, and the resentment behind them, sting Ritsu like acid. He thinks he's starting to get the picture, now.

Masamune continues when Ritsu doesn't stop him. "I mean, she's normal. A normal kid. She's smart, she's funny, and she has a lot of friends. She also seems really brave and strong."

A cold hand squeezes around Ritsu's heart.

Masamune isn't done yet, though. "But most of all, she has two parents that love her, and treat her like she's their entire world. She didn't grow up with people who didn't care, surrounded by screaming and arguments and threats that never ended, feeling like it was all her fault." With every word, his voice gets more hard and angry and  _hurt._  "And when I think about that, I can't fucking breathe because it hurts so much."

The raw strength of Masamune's pain knocks the air out of Ritsu's lungs.

"I know it's not her fault, and I'm not mad at her, or anyone anymore really. I stopped being mad a long time ago. It wasn't worth it. " The anger has cooled from Masamune's voice. There's nothing left now except a hint of disgust, aimed at himself. "But I still feel like this. Does that make me a terrible person?"

The hand around Ritsu's heart crushes it into dust. He nearly chokes in his haste to tell Masamune how impossibly untrue that is. "No," he gasps. "Of course not!" He raises himself up and braces his hands on either side of Masamune's torso, leaning over him and looking down into his eyes. It's dark, but he finds them easily. "Masamune, please don't ever say anything like that again," he begs, voice shaking dangerously. He can't afford tears at the moment, so he bites his lip until that pain distracts him from the pain behind his eyes.

Surprised, Masamune's eyes widen. He opens his mouth to say something, but no words come out.

Good. Ritsu has a lot more to say, first. "I don't want you to ever think for even a second that something like that makes you a bad person." He sucks in a harsh breath, trying in vain to calm himself down. "The way you're feeling about this is completely normal. You  _did_ deserve all of that, and so,  _so_ much more than what you got."

It's too dark to see much, but Masamune's sharp inhale rings through the air loud and clear.

"You're right, it's not Saki's fault that she got that and you didn't, but you deserved it just as much as she does." Ritsu's chest heaves; he's so angry and heartbroken for the man underneath him whose childhood was so tragically incomplete. "You deserved parents that gave a damn. Who were there for you. Who treated you the way parents are supposed to treat their children." Finally, he loses the battle he'd fought against the tears threatening to fall. He wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and draws in shallow, ragged breaths until they stop. "So don't ever let me hear yourself calling yourself a terrible person for being human," he orders Masamune in an embarrassingly thick voice.

His tirade comes to an abrupt end when arms wrap around his shoulders and pull him crashing down on top of Masamune's chest. "Ritsu," Masamune breathes, sounding awestruck. "Thank you."

The gratitude in those two words soothes the sting inside Ritsu's heart. "Don't thank me for telling the truth." His forehead presses against Masamune's chest.

Masamune rumbles with soft laughter. His lips meet the top of Ritsu's head and stay there. Quiet falls between them for a bit, broken only by the light sounds of nighttime and their slow breathing. It's a while before Masamune speaks again. "You know, even after everything, if I could go back in time and change anything, I wouldn't. Because even the worst of it kept me on the path to being where I am right here, right now: with you. That's the only thing that's ever been important."

The back of Ritsu's eyes prickle again as his heart skips a beat. Masamune Takano is truly a being that is more than human. That's part of what he loves about him, though. "I wouldn't change anything, either," he declares unapologetically.

Masamune buries his smile in Ritsu's hair.

The next time the silence is broken, it's because of Ritsu. "We're going to be in charge of _three kids._  This weekend is gonna be crazy, isn't it?" He groans. Merely thinking about it is enough to make him more exhausted than he's ever felt.

"Yup,' Masamune sighs, resigned to his fate. "I guess we'd better stock up on our sleep now," he suggests.

Ritsu simply groans again. "You think if we left now we'd be able to get past the border before they find us," he questions idly. He has no plans of actually going through with it, (he's too exhausted to move, now. It's too late.) but it's a nice thought.

Masamune has no problems dashing Ritsu's pipe dream. "No. Besides, in pretty sure Yokozawa has a tracker planted on me from back in college. He'd find me," he concludes grimly.

Ritsu smashes his face into his pillow in the vague hopes that it will smother him. There goes that.

Masamune laughs. "Goodnight, Ritsu. I love you." Underneath the blanket, his hand finds Ritsu's, and he squeezes.

Ritsu smiles. "Goodnight. I love you too." He squeezes back.

And then, they're asleep.

Ritsu's last thought, before he slips into unconsciousness, is that he still stands by what he said before. He and Masamune _can_  do anything, and overcome any obstacle, as long as they're together. They beat ten years of separation, after all. Anything else compared to that should be a piece of cake. This will be… interesting, though.

(God help them.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be continued...
> 
> *Breathes in*: Man do I love the smell of family-related angst/drama. Don't y'all? :) 
> 
> I promise that I shall deliver unto you guys the promised fluff (and angst) in the next chapter, but I believe that there's also a pair of idiot princes somewhere that I've been neglecting... Hmm. 
> 
> Please pray for my non-existing impulse control, and I will try to be back with an update ASAP!!!


	5. I'm so sorry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is not an update

Hello everyone! I'm sorry it's been so long. I've missed y'all!

I won't waste your time beating around the bush. I'm so sorry to do this. I know how much I hate seeing these kinds of "updates" in my inbox. It has already been a long time since my last update, and I deeply apologize for that. That said, I am here to formally announce that I will be taking a hiatus for the foreseeable future. 

A few of you might already know, but there has been a l o t going on in the Sih fandom lately. It's gotten to the point where I am only capable of associating negative emotions regarding it, and that saddens me greatly. This story is very important to me. Too important. And I don't want to taint it with the backlash of what's been going on. Deep down, I still love our boys though, don't worry. Truthfully, I had already been considering taking a hiatus due to my hectic, horribly inconsistent work schedule, combined with the fact that the oh-so dreaded return to classes is very nearly upon me. This was only the deciding factor. I'd sincerely hoped to have an update ready to be posted on my birthday which is in a little over a week. My apologies that it does not seem that that will be happening.

I promise that I will never completely abandon this story. I hope to find my enjoyment in writing again very soon, and once more, I am very sorry about this 💜💜💜


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